#and it's her first time! everyone else are returning players and she was NERVOUS!! she KNOCKED it out of the park!!!!

[luxerians]

The Last Mask (18.2)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 18.2 - Humanity [NSFW]

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 19

PREV : Chapter 17.2

SFW ver. : Chapter 18.1

[Hwang In-ho’s Flashback…]

It was during the first few minutes of the Seven-Legged Hexathlon when In-ho stood quietly beside player 423. Her brows furrowed slightly, her lips pressed together in concentration. She was focused. Almost too focused on the first two teams playing Tuho. He noticed the way her eyes tracked every throw, every movement as if she was absorbing every detail.

She wasn’t just watching; she was analyzing, preparing, worrying.

He had seen that kind of look before. People who tried to predict every outcome, tried to control what little they could in an unpredictable situation. He knew it well because he was the overseer of these games. He had watched and noticed everything throughout his times as the Front Man. And yet, something about the way she did it made him pause.

“Don’t be nervous. I’m sure you’ll do fine,” he said, stepping closer.

She turned to look at him, startled for a brief moment. He held her gaze and gave her a small, confident smile. “You said you did it often. I’m certain you’ve got skills.”

Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to respond, but she hesitated. Instead, she lowered her gaze, something shifting in her expression.

“That was years ago. Now…”

Her voice trailed off, her eyes turning distant. Whatever she was thinking about, it wasn’t the game in front of her anymore. It was something else. Something heavier. In-ho recognized that kind of look, too. It was the look of someone recalling a nightmare without meaning to. He knew because he tended to do it too.

He stared at her intently, curiosity creeping in. What was she hiding? He knew loss when he saw it, knew the weight of burdens unspoken.

Out of nowhere, she shook her head, shaking away whatever thoughts that had taken hold of her. “My arms sometimes tremble uncontrollably. What if it messes up my aim?”

That’s when an idea sprang to his mind. An opportunity to lower her guard and manipulate her further. Without hesitation, In-ho responded, “Then I’ll hold your hands.”

It still felt odd, though. Manipulation or not, he wasn’t the kind of man who offered comfort. The Front Man wouldn’t care. The cold, detached persona he had built over years of isolation wouldn’t have said anything at all.

And yet, here he was, trying for someone he had only known for a short time.

Manipulation or not, maybe it was because she reminded him of something – of warmth, of his past self he had buried. Or maybe it was simply because he thought he was in control of everything. Yes, he is doing this to manipulate her, he convinced himself.

After completing the Seven-Legged Hexathlon, the group returned to the dormitory. In-ho, playing his part, apologized for failing the Spinning Top multiple times – even though he had done so intentionally. He was expecting little reaction, maybe even some teasing, but instead, you smiled warmly at him.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Everyone has moments like that, but you didn’t give up, and that’s what mattered.”

For a moment, In-ho just stared at you, caught off guard once again.

Your words always seemed to slip through his defenses, seeping into places he had long sealed off. It was unnerving how easily you could disarm him, how your warmth found cracks in the cold exterior he had spent years perfecting. It felt as if you had known him far longer than just these past few days. As if you saw through him. Not just the man he pretended to be, but the one he had buried beneath layers of control and calculation.

His eyes softened before he could stop them, and he smiled. Was it real? He wasn’t sure. He had been pretending for so long that even he couldn’t always tell.

Then, that moment came.

The smile on your lips turned fake. That’s when you told them. About your parents, about the weight of your family situation, and about the staggering 350 million won debt that had pulled you into this place.

In-ho watched you closely, reading every small detail.

The way you kept faking a smile, the way you tried to make it sound like everything was fine. But he saw the strain beneath it, the exhaustion of someone carrying far too much for far too long.

And something inside him tightened.

He knew that look all too well. The quiet acceptance of an unfair fate. He had worn it himself, once.

For the first time, his reaction wasn’t calculated. He simply watched you, feeling something unfamiliar creep into his chest. A quiet ache. A reluctant understanding.

And perhaps, just for a moment, he hated that he cared.

Not only that, but he felt an anger so deep it surprised him. The thought of anyone threatening you, forcing you into this situation, made his blood simmer with quiet rage. The image of you struggling under the weight of someone else’s cruelty refused to leave his mind.

These men had taken advantage of you, had pushed you into a corner with no way out. And now, standing here, watching you mask your pain with that forced smile, he knew one thing for certain.

Once these games are over, he would find them.

Soon enough, In-ho saw the full extent of your kindness. He watched the way you treated player 222. Of course, everyone who learned of her condition was gentle with her, but the way you cared for her was different. Softer, warmer, motherly and deeply sincere.

What he didn’t realize yet was how much he liked seeing that kindness spread from you to everyone else, including him.

He didn’t yet understand that he was drawn to you the way the tide is drawn to the moon. Inevitably, irresistibly, without question.

Then came the moment when everyone in the group began introducing themselves.

“My name is [Your Full Name],” you said next, offering a small smile. “I’ve never checked what it means.”

From the corner of his eye, In-ho noticed the others nodding in acknowledgment, but his focus stayed on you. He smiled to himself, content. Now he had your name.

Before joining the game as a spy, he hadn’t bothered learning the players’ names. Why would he? Ninety-nine percent of them wouldn’t make it to the end.

Now, however, knowing your name felt like something worth keeping.

“It sounds perfect for you. Beautiful, even,” he said.

Your reaction was immediate. Your head dipped, eyes lowering as if his words had caught you off guard. There was a flicker of shyness, an innocence to the way you absorbed his compliment. He stared at you quietly, taking in that moment before finally introducing himself.

“I’m Oh Young-il.”

“Young-il?” Player 390, whose name was Jung-bae, blinked.

“Yes,” In-ho gestured toward his player number. “Young-il sounds like ‘zero one,’ and that’s my number. Easy to remember.”

Player 388, Dae-ho, looked at him with amazement. “Oh, that’s true! Your name is your number!”

“What a coincidence,” you remarked, smiling. “Maybe the game makers noticed the connection and assigned you as 001 on purpose.”

In-ho’s smile widened in amusement, finding your comment inwardly hilarious. “Who knows? It does feel a little too perfect.”

***

“[Your name].”

In-ho’s head turned instinctively. Gi-hun had approached and now stood beside you on the staircase. It was right after the announcement of how much each surviving player would receive if the majority voted for X.

He didn’t even know why he reacted like that – instinctive and swift. It wasn’t even his real name, but hearing yours always seemed to pull his attention.

Gi-hun stared at you, his expression solemn.

“If the vote goes our way and we leave this game, memorize my phone number,” he said. “Contact me. I want to help you and your situation.”

Something dark curled in In-ho’s chest. There it is. He barely held back a scoff. That oh-so-heroic self. Trying to impress her that much, Gi-hun?

But Gi-hun had no idea what was running through In-ho’s mind. He kept going.

“I still have billions of won left. More than enough to help your family. If you’re more comfortable, we can arrange to meet somewhere. Maybe at a park or a subway station.”

Pathetic.

Gi-hun was dangling a solution in front of you, playing the role of savior like he always did. But what irritated In-ho more was your reaction. You looked amazed. Grateful, even. The appreciation in your eyes, the warmth in your voice as you responded, “Thank you. That would mean a lot.”

In-ho’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. His gaze flickered between you both, the sight of it making his stomach churn. The idea of you meeting Gi-hun outside this game, of continuing this connection, of sharing moments beyond these walls. It unsettled him in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge.

If the majority voted X, you and Gi-hun would meet again. You’d talk, you’d share stories, you’d smile at him the way you sometimes smiled at In-ho now. And that displeased him more than it should have.

More than it ever should have.

Then In-ho spoke up, “I’d like to help as well.”

You turned to him swiftly, wide-eyed in astonishment. In-ho instinctively smiled, satisfied that your attention was back where it belonged – on him.

He added with a reassuring tone, “Whether it’s protection or financial support, I’ll do whatever I can. If we leave this place, let’s set up a meeting as well.”

Your cheeks tinged with a faint crimson before you bowed your head in gratitude. “Thank you so much, you two.”

In-ho nodded, but just as he looked up, his gaze met Gi-hun’s. The younger man was frowning at him. The two locked eyes, exchanging a silent but charged stare. Then, Gi-hun’s gaze flickered to the O patch on In-ho’s chest.

Oh? Is he doubting me because I voted to stay last time?

In-ho kept his voice even as he addressed Gi-hun directly. “Don’t worry. I want to stop here too.”

Gi-hun’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but something about his expression remained unreadable. In-ho thought that was the end of it. But then Gi-hun nodded and spoke again.

“Ah, right. You have a wife waiting for you at the hospital.”

Something snapped in In-ho. His jaw clenched, his body tensed, every nerve in his body suddenly alert. He didn’t need to glance at you to know that Gi-hun’s words hit you like a punch to the chest. He could feel the weight of your stunned silence, the realization crashing over you like a tidal wave.

He knew exactly what must be running through your mind. After all, there was something between you two. So subtle, yet undeniably alive. You and he had been moving toward something, slow and inevitable, changing the way he saw the world – changing him. You had altered something in his very chemistry, and he knew you felt it too.

But now?

Now you knew he was married. Or in your head at that moment, is married.

He didn’t need to ask to understand the kind of person you were. You were the type to respect boundaries, to step back the moment you realized there was a line you shouldn’t cross. You would let go, even if it hurt you, because you were that kind and selfless. And that realization made his stomach twist.

Sure, he should have told you. He should have explained everything. About his wife, about what had happened. But he had wanted to tell you on his own terms, when you were alone, when he had control over how the truth was revealed.

But Gi-hun had taken that choice away from him.

It wasn’t an accident. It was too perfectly timed, too deliberate. In-ho’s mind reeled. Could it be that Gi-hun had noticed? Had he seen something between you two?

Does he like you too?

Is he trying to put an end to whatever was growing between us?

His fists curled at his sides as he forced himself to keep his face neutral. But the damage had already been done. And worst of all, now you knew.

After the majority of players voted to stay in the games, In-ho’s eyes subconsciously searched for you. When he found you lying in bed, he gravitated toward you without thinking. But he wasn’t the only one. Dae-ho and Jun-hee were also approaching.

His gaze flickered to Gi-hun. There he stood, frozen in the middle of the X zone, drowning in despair over the result, over the players’ greed. In-ho should have enjoyed the sight, should have taken satisfaction in watching Gi-hun’s naive ideals crumble. This vote had proved In-ho right. These players weren’t victims. They had chosen to stay.

Yet, instead of smirking at Gi-hun’s misery, In-ho kept walking toward you.

When he reached your bed, he realized you were trying to sleep. It was obvious. You were disappointed too.

Dae-ho sighed beside him. “I’m disappointed too. Jung-bae voting for O? I didn’t see that coming. I felt like screaming, ‘Sir, what are you thinking?’ at him. He agreed with us to vote for going back home just moments before the vote.”

“It can’t be helped,” In-ho spoke up, his tone even. “People tend to change their minds once they’re standing at the voting counter.”

His eyes lingered on your face, searching for any sign that his presence had an impact on you. But there was none.

Was it because you knew about my marriage? Had that changed things between us already?

He didn’t like that thought. He didn’t like the uncertainty it brought.

He found himself staring longer than he should have, lost in thought, until movement from Dae-ho snapped him out of it. The man leaned against the pillar of your bunk bed, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I understand him, but… what was Jung-bae thinking?”

In-ho cast a dark glance at Dae-ho, who remained oblivious. He noticed it then – the way Dae-ho hovered, the way he was so quick to linger by your side.

Did he like you?

It made sense. You were warmth in a place like this, a rare softness amidst brutality. Of course, others would be drawn to you. But In-ho didn’t want that. He didn’t know why, but the thought of someone else getting too close to you made something stir inside him. Something possessive.

So he acted.

Without a word, he sat down at the far corner of your bed, closing the distance between you both. He was now the closest to you, closer than Dae-ho, closer than anyone else.

“There’s no use thinking about it now,” he said, his voice steady. “The votes are done. Let’s focus on staying together and winning the game again tomorrow.”

Then came the moment when you refused to get up and queue for dinner.

“Don’t be like that,” Dae-ho urged. “You’ll end up weak and all skinny tomorrow.”

A brief silence followed before you quipped, “I’m trying to go on a diet anyway, so it’s fine.”

Dae-ho waved off your excuse. “Haih, you look beautiful already. Now get up—”

Before he could continue, In-ho spoke up, his voice firm yet composed. “It’s okay. You two go on ahead. The queues are getting long. I’ll persuade her.”

Dae-ho and Jun-hee hesitated, but after a moment, they left.

In-ho turned back to you, watching as you remained lying in bed, unmoving, your disappointment in the voting result still weighing heavily on you. He then attempted to coax you into queuing for dinner, but you remained lying in bed. You had no appetite, no motivation, only a heavy frustration that dulled your sense of hunger.

In-ho knew at this moment that coaxing you further would be useless. But he could do something else. He could make sure you ate.

After all, the next game was the Mingle game. Running, speed, stamina. It would all matter. And you wouldn’t get far on an empty stomach.

So, without another word, he left and joined the dinner queue. When he reached the front, the worker guard supervising the line handed him a single set of a round bun and a carton of milk.

In-ho didn’t take it.

Instead, he reached straight into the box, his fingers closing around a bun and a milk carton. He slipped them smoothly into the pocket of his jacket, then grabbed another set as if nothing had happened.

The worker guard hesitated, momentarily stunned. Behind him, a manager noticed but did nothing. Of course, they wouldn’t stop him. They knew exactly who he was.

Without another glance, In-ho turned and walked away, making sure none of the other players saw what he had done.

In-ho arrived at your bedside and called your name softly. The moment your eyes fluttered open, he handed you your set of dinner. You frowned before resting your head back against the pillow.

“I don’t want to eat your dinner. Don’t worry about me,” you murmured.

In-ho was amused. Even after knowing about his marriage, even when he knew you were hungry, your kindness and concern for him still remained. That part of you hadn’t changed. He glanced around briefly before revealing another set of dinner from his jacket.

“It’s not mine,” he told you. “It’s yours.”

Your gaze shifted to the food in his hands. Two sets – two buns and two cartons of milk. Surprise flickered across your face as you slowly sat up, the blanket slipping down from your shoulders.

“You got two?”

“I took another set on your behalf,” he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Your eyes widened. “We can do that?”

His smile grew in amusement. “We can’t.”

You stared at him, perplexed. “Then how did you get two?”

He extended the dinner toward you again, his voice calm yet knowing. “I know what to say to the guards. My line of work taught me how.”

***

[Back to present…]

“I may have led this hell myself, but I will be the one to keep you from burning.”

You closed your eyes, torn between the storm inside you and the undeniable pull of his touch.

Sensing no resistance from you, In-ho pulled the blanket around your naked body. His movements were careful and tender as if handling something fragile. Once you clutched it closer around yourself, he kissed your temple before shifting away from you.

You watched in silence as he sat at the side of the bed, bent down and retrieved a radio from a pocket of his Front Man coat. He pressed the button and brought it close to his bare face. “What’s the status on my dinner?”

A static-filled voice responded, “Currently being prepared, sir. It will be delivered shortly.”

You stared at his side profile quietly, noticing how attractive he looked from this angle.

In-ho informed, “Make another serving. Bring them both to my room as usual.”

“Understood.”

He set the radio down and turned back to you. His hair, no longer slicked back with oil, was all over his forehead. He looked every bit the Young-il you grew to love. And oh, it melted your guard as you stared at him quietly. His eyes – which you had seen turned dark and ruthless more than once – were now looking back at you softly.

He looked away and got up from the bed. He went to grab a black towel, wrapping it around his hips. He then retrieved a glass and a water bottle from the cupboard behind his study desk, pouring the clear liquid into the glass before turning back to you.

Silently, he extended it toward you. You hesitated for a moment before taking it from him, bringing it to your lips and drinking deeply. The cool water soothed your dry throat, but it did nothing to ease the tension gripping your chest.

“Wait here and rest up,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll call you when your dinner has arrived.”

“But Young—” you caught yourself, your lips pressing into a thin line before correcting, “I mean, In-ho. What will happen now? Will the games continue like usual?”

He met your gaze, but said nothing. His silence weighed heavier than any answer could have. You could see it in his eyes – this was the path he had chosen, the role he had accepted. The games would go on.

Disappointment settled over you like a thick fog, dimming whatever flicker of hope you had clung to. “What about our friends?”

Still, no answer. Just that same unreadable stare. A wall between you that you weren’t sure could ever be broken.

The sudden shrill ring of a wired telephone shattered the silence, making you flinch under the blanket. In-ho, too, tensed at the sound, his gaze snapping toward the door. His entire posture stiffened. You watched him carefully as he stared into space, contemplating.

Without turning back to you, he muttered, “Wait here.”

He strode to where his Front Man attire lay discarded on the floor. You observed as he put on his boxer and black pants and retrieved the dark coat, pulling it over his broad shoulders before reaching for the smooth, geometrical mask. He placed it over his face, transforming instantly from the man you knew into the enigma that ruled this place.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you swathed in the blanket on his bed. You kept still, suppressing even your breathing as you sharpened your hearing, hoping to catch fragments of the conversation.

The ringing ceased, replaced by the deep, robotic distortion of his voice as he answered in fluent English.

“Front Man speaking.”

A pause stretched. You wished you could hear the other caller but the walls swallowed the words before they could reach you. Then, In-ho’s voice emerged again, composed and authoritative.

“Ensure they don’t get anywhere close to this location.”

Another beat of silence. Then, he added, “All eyes are on Player 456. We will not allow another incident.”

You inhaled sharply. He was talking about Gi-hun. A cold realization settled over you. Gi-hun was still seen as a threat. They were watching his every move, ensuring he wouldn't instigate another uprising.

A long pause followed. You assumed the call had ended when you heard the soft ding of the elevator from beyond the door. Your heartbeat quickened.

Footsteps. Several of them. Boots clicking against the polished black and gold floor. Then, In-ho’s voice echoed once more, deep and authoritative. “Place them in the dining room.”

More steps, followed by the faint creak of a door opening. Ten seconds later, you heard those footsteps again in the hallway before another ding of the elevator.

Seconds later, the door to the bedroom where you lay opened. It was In-ho, fully dressed in his Front Man attire except for the mask. He had removed it, and his hoodie was down.

“Our dinner has arrived,” he announced as he stepped inside, standing beside the bed. His gaze softened as he looked down at you. “Can you stand?”

With your hands clutching the blanket tightly around yourself, you shifted toward the side of the bed. That’s when a hand, palm up, hovered in front of you. You blinked, glancing up at him with wide, hesitant eyes. In-ho was offering his hand to you.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his outstretched palm, before finally placing your hand in his. His fingers curled around yours, firm yet gentle, as he helped you rise from the bed. Your legs wobbled the moment your feet touched the floor, but his steady grip anchored you.

Before you could sway again, he slid an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer against his chest. The warmth of his body radiated through the fabric of his clothing, and you gawked at him in quiet astonishment. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture, the close proximity of your bodies, left you feeling strangely breathless.

In-ho met your gaze, his expression calm and reassuring. “Let's go. I'll help you to the bathroom so you can clean up.”

Without another word, he guided you across the room, his arm remaining securely around your shoulders. Your naked form was still wrapped in the heavy black blanket from his bed, the fabric trailing along the floor as you moved. Yet, he seemed utterly unbothered by it. If anything, his focus was solely on ensuring you remained steady on your feet.

The two of you made your way toward the bathroom in silence. Each step sent a dull ache through your body, a lingering reminder of the intensity from earlier. But with In-ho's arm keeping you steady, the exhaustion felt more bearable.

You stepped into the opulent black and gold bathroom, feeling the contrast between the cool marble floor and your warm skin. A long, polished black marble sink stretched along one side of the room, adorned with gold-trimmed mirrors that reflected the soft, ambient lighting. The walk-in shower stood enclosed by sleek glass doors, its golden fixtures gleaming under the soft illumination. In the far corner, a luxurious bathtub rested as if waiting to cradle someone in its warmth.

In-ho guided you toward the shower, his arm still loosely wrapped around your shoulders. Stopping just before the glass door, he cautiously released his hold on you.

“You should take a shower first,” he said gently. “Then we can have dinner together.”

You nodded quietly, shifting slightly under his gaze. Your fingers hesitated before finally loosening the grip on the blanket wrapped around your form. The cool air brushed against your bare skin, making you shiver slightly.

Without a word, In-ho peeled the blanket off of you and folded it before he placed it over the marble sink. His movements were calm but when he turned back, his gaze darkened. His eyes roamed over your form, the once-calm expression clouded with something deeper. Something raw. Lust and longing flickered in his face, restrained yet unmistakable.

Your breath hitched as you noticed the way he was looking at you, heat rising to your cheeks. You quickly averted your gaze, pushing open the shower door as a means of breaking the tension. Stepping inside, you took a moment to examine the golden fixtures, scanning for a way to turn the water on.

Before you could figure it out, In-ho followed you inside, his presence looming close behind.

“Here,” he murmured, stepping forward. His fingers brushed against yours briefly before he reached up, adjusting the settings on the panel.

“This controls the temperature,” he explained, demonstrating how to find the right heat. Then, turning a different handle, he activated the rainfall shower above, letting warm water cascade down in smooth, steady streams. “And this is for the pressure.”

You stood still as the heat of the water mixed with the heat of his body near yours. The tension between you was thick, tangible. You swallowed hard, willing yourself to focus on the shower rather than the man beside you.

In-ho studied you for a moment longer before stepping back, his gaze lingering on your form. His voice was barely audible above the sound of the rainfall shower as he said, “I'll be outside when you're ready.”

With one last fleeting glance, he exited the shower, closing the glass door behind him. As the steam from the hot water filled the room, it obscured your view of him through the glass. By the time you lifted your gaze, he was already gone.

Dinner was quiet, tension thick in the air. The black and gold-themed dining room, though elegant, felt stifling. Both of you wore matching black bathrobes, fresh from the shower, the scent of soap still lingering.

You ate slowly, your mind too preoccupied to focus on the food. Across the table, In-ho watched you, his dark eyes lingering. There was something restrained in his gaze. Something dark and lustful.

Once the meal ended, In-ho stood and gestured for you to follow. You hesitated but eventually rose, trailing behind him through the grand halls.

The walk to his bedroom felt slow. When you entered the dimly lit space, unease settled in your chest. You sat on the bed as In-ho turned to the door. Without hesitation, he reached for the lock and twisted it shut. The soft click echoed, sending a shiver down your spine.

The next thing you knew, you found yourself kneeling on the floor next to the bed, with him standing upright in front of you. You shyly licked his cock, all the while feeling the intensity of In-ho’s gaze on you. He took in a sharp breath as your tongue made contact, his hands instinctively finding your hair. His fingers tangled into the strands, grip firm yet not forceful.

“Suck,” he commanded softly but clearly. His usually deep voice had turned husky, desire glazing his eyes. You paused for a moment, meeting his gaze before taking him into your mouth. The salty taste was foreign to you but not entirely unpleasant.

In-ho’s body tensed as you did so. He threw his head back, a low groan escaping from his throat. Your fingers grazed against the thick veins on his cock, feeling the pulse throb beneath your touch.

You continued, your lips and tongue working around him. His grunts and moans were sporadic, filling the room with intoxicating sounds of pleasure. You found it arousing, the way he reacted to your ministrations, watched as he lost control bit by bit.

His grip tightened in your hair as you took him deeper, the pressure of his fingers a stark reminder of the power dynamic between you two. His other hand found its way to your cheek, his thumb gently stroking across it in a soothing manner as if to reassure you.

“Slow down,” he instructed, his voice strained. “Take your time.”

You took a moment to adjust your pace, watching his reaction as you did so. In-ho's eyes were half-lidded, his gaze burning into yours. The intense look sent shivers down your spine, stirring an unfamiliar sensation in your core.

He let out another low groan as you slowly pulled away, a thin trail of saliva connecting you two briefly before breaking. His grip in your hair loosened slightly as you moved to lick at the base. You didn't miss the way his breath hitched at the change in stimulation.

As you continued working, In-ho's hand moved from your cheek to your shoulder, then down to gently grasp one of your breasts through your bathrobe. The sensation of his warm hand cupping you so intimately made you squirm, the tingling feeling spreading out from your center. His thumb brushed your nipple through the fabric, his touch lingering and firm. You gasped around him, the unexpected stimulation making you moan.

In-ho grunted in response, his grip on your hair tightening again. He took a step forward, forcing you to take his cock deeper and look up at him. His eyes were glazed over with desire, his breath coming in ragged pants.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice quiet but firm.

You complied, meeting his intense gaze as your lips slid over him once more. The moan that slipped from his lips sent a thrill of satisfaction through you. Your hands gently gripped In-ho’s thighs for support, your head bobbing up and down as your lips slid over him.

The dim light from the lamp cast a golden glow on his skin, highlighting the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each moan that escaped his lips. You could see the desire in his eyes, urging you to continue. His hand was tangled in your hair, his fingers gently pulling and directing your movements.

You could feel the heat between your bodies, your breaths coming in short pants as you worked to bring him to the edge of ecstasy. His body reacted to your every touch, his hips lifting in response and his chest rising and falling with heavy breathing. The sound of your soft gasps and moans mix with In-ho’s own pleasured moans.

The desire that filled the room was palpable, intoxicating. You could feel your own arousal building, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. His grip tightened in your hair as he let out a low groan. Your tongue swirled around him, coaxing more sounds from his throat; each one was a reward, further igniting the heat within you.

“Good girl,” In-ho breathed, his voice laced with pleasure. The praise sent a wave of warmth through you, spurring you on.

Eager to please him further, you reached up with one hand to cup his balls gently. He groaned louder at the additional stimulation, his hips bucking slightly.

In-ho’s grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you deeper into his hard cock, his intense gaze meeting yours. His voice was husky with desire, his hands holding your head firmly, when he spoke. “Can I take over?”

You nodded, a shiver running through you at the thought of giving yourself completely to him. In-ho’s dominant side was a huge turn on for you. You felt both frightened and anxious since it was your first experience, but you appreciated him taking charge in this scenario.

Without a word, he began to move your head back and forth along his length, setting a rhythm that had you both moaning. You could feel yourself getting lost in the pleasure; the taste of him on your tongue, the sensation of his cock sliding against the skin of your mouth, the sounds of his moans filling the room, and the sensations coursing through your body. Your hands were now free to roam over his thighs and stomach, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch.

His fingers gently guided your head up and down, his pace increasing slowly but surely. You could tell by the way his breathing became more erratic and his grip on your hair tightened even further that he was getting more and more aroused.

As he guided your head and movements, you gazed up at him with wide eyes, noticing that he was gradually losing control. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now burned with unbridled lust. The sight of this normally composed man unraveling before you sent a thrill of power and arousal through your body. His grip on your hair became nearly painful - yet pleasurable - as he started to thrust faster.

“F-fuck,” In-ho grunted, his voice strained and ragged.

You tried your best to relax your throat, taking him as deep as you could while continuing to work your tongue along his thick shaft. The room filled with the sickening sound of wet, sloppy sucking as he eventually used your mouth mercilessly for his pleasure. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it all, but you didn't stop him. You didn’t want to.

His hips now moved with a mind of their own, slamming forward and forcing his throbbing cock deep into your mouth and down your throat. The tip kissed the back of your throat with each violent thrust, gagging you again and again as drool spilled down your chin. Tears streamed down your face from the intense treatment of your mouth. Yet through the haze of tears and pain, you saw his face contort in pure concentration, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead as he chased his pleasure.

Despite the punishing pace and force of his thrusts, he showed no signs of slowing down or stopping. His stamina seemed endless as he used you like a mere object for his selfish gratification. You felt like a toy, a set of warm, wet holes for him to rut into. The realization sent a sick thrill through you, knowing you were truly at his mercy.

Minutes passed in this manner, your jaw aching and throat raw as he fucked your face with reckless abandon. Just as you thought your jaw would give out and your throat could no longer take the brutal pounding, In-ho slammed his hips forward one final time.

Your eyes widened in shock as he sheathed his throbbing cock deep into your mouth, the bulbous head kissing the entrance to your throat as he hilted inside you. You felt his shaft pulse and throb against your tongue as he began to unload thick, hot ropes of semen directly into your gullet.

The first spurt caught you by surprise, causing you to gag and convulse around his plunging cock. But his grip on your hair never wavered as spurt after heavy spurt of his potent seed pumped into your throat, forcing your neck to swallow convulsively.

You could only whimper and moan around his softening member as he emptied his heavy balls deep in your mouth and throat. The sheer volume of his release surprised you. It seemed to go on forever, your neck bulging slightly with each fresh gush of jizz.

Finally, with a last shuddering groan, he finished, his softening cock slipping out of your abused mouth with a wet pop. Pearly drops of semen clung to your swollen lips before dripping down onto your heaving chest.

You placed a shaky hand on the floor to support yourself, coughing and sputtering as you tried to regain your breath. Your other hand remained pressed against your mouth, feeling the tacky remnants of his release coating your fingers. As you blinked away the tears, you became vaguely aware of In-ho's heavy breathing filling the otherwise silent room.

Seconds later, you felt him crouch down beside you, one large hand coming to rest gently on your back.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his usually deep voice now laced with concern and regret, “for being rough with you. I got carried away.”

His voice was genuine, filled with remorse and regret. You could see it in his eyes too, the way they softened as he took in your disheveled state. His hand gently rubbed your back in soothing circles, a stark contrast to the brutal way he had just used you. Despite the throbbing pain in your jaw and throat, a thin smile crept onto your face.

“It's okay…” you managed to rasp out in between coughs, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “I let you, didn’t I?”

A look of shock crossed his handsome features before being replaced by a hesitant smile. With his hand still gently rubbing your back, he murmured, “You're really something else.”

You could feel yourself growing sleepy as exhaustion began to creep up on you, the adrenaline of your earlier activities slowly wearing off. Sensing this, In-ho was about to carry you into his bed when you extended your hand to stop him, keeping him from coming any nearer. He gave you a surprised look, clearly taken aback by your avoidance.

You shook your head to him as if reassuring him. “I just need to go to the bathroom.”

Afterward, In-ho kept his distance but never let you out of his sight. He trailed you to the bathroom and even assisted in washing your face. For someone his age, he appeared quite attached as if he wanted to soak up every moment in your company.

Before long, In-ho assisted you onto the bed and joined you there. He draped the blanket over both of you and gently drew you back against his chest, enveloping you in his comforting warmth. His strong arm encircled your waist securely, while his fingers leisurely traced gentle patterns on your bare skin, crafting a calming rhythm that eased you deeper into relaxation.

You assumed it was over, and it was – for that night. However, the following morning, you were stirred from sleep by the sound of heavy breathing behind you and felt a persistent firmness pressing against your bare backside beneath the blanket. Gradually, you became aware that In-ho was either becoming aroused or experiencing morning wood.

Before you could fully wake up, you felt a persistent pressure against your backside as In-ho shifted positions slightly. The next thing you knew, his large hand was gripping your hip firmly as he guided his hard, thick cock to nestle between your soft buttocks. Your eyes widened as he began to grind against you, his hips moving in a slow, teasing rhythm.

That’s when he stopped. You felt him inching closer to your ear and he groggily spoke, “You awake?”

You gave a shy nod, then reached back to hold his hip with one hand. He interpreted this as permission and started to move. You could only let out a soft gasp as he slipped his cockhead past your tight entrance, pushing insistently against the resistant ring of muscle. Your body instinctively clenched around him but his persistence won out as he slowly sank into your hot, velvety depths with a low groan of satisfaction.

In one swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside you. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your body arched back against his chest. He didn't give you any time to adjust before he began to move, his hips drawing back until just the tip remained inside before slamming forward again, burying himself to the hilt.

He set a hard, deep pace as he pounded into you ruthlessly, his hand gripping your hip tightly enough to bruise. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans and grunts filled the room as he took his pleasure from your pliant body.

Despite the brutal treatment of your body, you found yourself pushing back against his every thrust, matching his rhythm instinctively. The sensation was too intoxicating, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that made your toes curl and spine tingle. Tears sprang to your eyes again from the sheer intensity of it all, but you merely moaned and whimpered it all out.

He wasn’t gentle, nor did he give you any respite. His thrusts were unrelenting and savage as he used your body to sate his need. But in an odd way, you relished the rawness of it all – the primal need that In-ho unabashedly expressed through his brutal lovemaking. You ended up loving his aggression and roughness.

Time seemed to blur as he continued to pump into you relentlessly, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. His thick cock stretched you open with each movement, filling you with an intensity that left you gasping for breath.

Next round later, you found yourself straddling In-ho's hips, his large hands gripping your waist tightly as you rode him with fervor. Your hair was a wild mess, sweat-dampened strands clinging to your flushed cheeks and neck. The room was filled with the rhythmic slap of skin against skin and the erotic sounds of your moans and his grunts echoing off the walls.

In-ho's eyes, dark and intense, watched you intently as you bounced on his thick cock. He seemed transfixed by the way your breasts jiggled with each movement, the creamy mounds glistening with a sheen of sweat. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding you to take him deeper and faster.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he grunted, his voice ragged and rough with lust. “So good taking my cock so well.”

His words sent a thrill through you, spurring you to ride him harder and faster. You could feel every thick inch of him stretching you open, filling you completely. The pleasure was almost too much to bear.

Your hips moved with a frenzied rhythm, bouncing on his lap as sweat dripped down your flushed skin. In-ho’s hands held onto your hips tightly as he thrust upwards to meet your movements. Each plunge sent a ripple of pleasure through your body, causing you to moan and writhe in ecstasy. His face was contorted with pleasure, his dark eyes watching every move as you took him deep inside you. Your bodies were slick with sweat and your moans filled the air, creating an erotic symphony that echoed throughout the room.

The room was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, like the drumbeat of a wild and passionate dance. Wet squelching and slapping noises echoed throughout the room as In-ho's cock plunged into your semen-filled pussy again and again, his hips meeting yours with a primal rhythm. The sound of your moans and the slickness of your sweat adding to the intensity.

“Come on,” he commanded, his voice strained with impending release. “Use me. Come over my cock.”

Your eyes met his in a heated stare, the intensity of his gaze causing a spark of need to ignite within you. His words were a catalyst that incited your primal instincts, driving you to abandon any remaining inhibitions. With a desperate nod, you continued to grind against him, your movements growing more frantic until pleasure consumed your senses, making your eyes roll back and your mouth open in a silent scream.

His hands gripped your waist tighter as he thrust up ferociously, the rhythm wild and uncontrolled. The intensity was overwhelming, the pressure coiling tightly within you, pushing you both to the precipice of release. Just as you felt the impending rush of orgasm, he pulled you down hard onto his cock one final time.

“Now!” he growled commandingly. The command was all it took for your body to finally surrender to the waves of pleasure that washed over you. Your muscles tightened around him as an intense orgasm rocked through you, your cries echoing around the room.

Your body shuddered and convulsed, overcome by the explosive force of your climax. A scream of pure ecstasy tore from your throat as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you. Your inner walls clenched and fluttered around In-ho's throbbing cock, gripping him like a vice as your orgasm reached its peak.

But In-ho was far from satisfied. Even as you trembled and gasped through the aftershocks, he gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises. With a feral growl, he slammed upwards, burying himself to the hilt inside your still-spasming pussy.

“Fuck, I'm not done with you yet,” he snarled through gritted teeth, his eyes wild and consumed with lust. He began to pound into you with renewed vigor, each powerful thrust shaking your entire body and forcing moans from your raw throat.

Despite the sensitivity of your overstimulated flesh, you found yourself meeting his rough thrusts eagerly, your hips undulating in tandem with his. The knowledge that he was still so hard, still so hungry for you, only fueled your own rekindled arousal.

Your hands rested on his damp chest, allowing him to take over. Even though he was beneath you, he wasn't losing control or submitting to you. Instead, he took control of your body and cunt all the time in complete dominance. His forceful and swift thrusts caused you to collapse onto his chest. As your bare chests brushed against each other, you gazed at him with half-closed eyes and parted lips.

Without warning, In-ho placed a hand on the back of your head and pressed his lips firmly against yours. Your tongues intertwined in a passionate dance as he continued to thrust into you repeatedly.

Lost in the throes of passion, you could only cling to him as he took you with wild abandon. Your nails dug into his chest, leaving red crescents in their wake as he drove into you relentlessly. Each powerful thrust sent jolts of pleasure-pain shooting through your sensitive nerve endings, stoking the fires of your rekindled arousal.

In-ho's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises as he slammed up into your still fluttering pussy. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your desperate moans and his harsh grunts.

In-ho's hips snapped upwards sharply, burying himself to the hilt in your dripping heat. The head of his cock kissed your cervix, sending a bolt of pleasure zinging up your spine. You could feel him growing even harder, his member swelling and twitching inside your clinging sheath.

“Fuck… I’m… close!” he grunted, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust. His face was a mask of concentration, jaws clenched and eyes squeezed shut as he chased his rapidly approaching climax.

Suddenly, with a groan, he slammed into you one final time, grinding his pelvis against yours as his cock jerked and spasmed violently inside you. Searing hot ropes of his seed gushed from his pulsing member, painting your insides white as he emptied his heavy balls deep in your womb.

Panting heavily, you collapsed against In-ho's sweat-slicked chest as the last spurts of his release trickled inside you. His heart raced beneath your ear, matching the frantic pounding of your own. Slowly, you became aware of the hot, sticky fluid seeping out around his softening cock, dripping down to stain the sheets beneath you.

In-ho kept his arms wrapped around you possessively, holding your limp body against his as he caught his breath. His hands slid up and down your back soothingly, almost lovingly. He pressed soft kisses to your hair, your temple, your cheek, murmuring words of praise and apologies.

“I’m sorry… again… for being rough…” he murmured, his voice low and rough from exertion. “You’re amazing… thank you for trusting me…”

You could only hum softly in response, too spent and sated to form coherent words. Your body felt deliciously sore and used, every inch of your skin tingling from his touch.

***

Several hours later, after sharing a shower, you both found yourselves in his bedroom. In-ho was getting dressed in his Front Man outfit, while you, still wrapped in your black bathrobe, searched the room for something.

He noticed and pointed. “Your clothes are over there.”

You followed his gesture and saw black pants and a matching trench coat. It looked just like his outfit, but there was no geometric mask for you.

After a moment of hesitation, you asked, “Where’s my uniform?”

In-ho turned to you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His hair was still messy from the shower, hanging over his forehead. He looked you over before asking with a neutral expression, “What uniform?”

“My manager uniform,” you clarified.

He looked away, adjusting his coat. His posture stiffened as he responded, “You don’t need to disguise yourself as a manager anymore. You can stay here until the games are over.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you serious? You can’t keep me locked up here the entire time.”

“I’m not,” he said simply. He finished adjusting his coat and turned back to face you, his expression unreadable. “You’re safer here. You won’t have to worry about getting caught.”

You shook your head. “But I still want to wear the disguise.”

His gaze hardened. “You want to help them in the next game, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer. He had figured it out instantly. He knew you were thinking about your friends – Jun-hee, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, Yong-sik and his mother, Hyun-ju. Even Se-mi, who had been difficult to trust you, was on your mind.

Instead of confirming it, you asked, “Is that wrong?”

He stared at you with a conflicted expression. Something about this moment made him hesitate. It was as if there was something he didn’t want you to know.

“You can’t help much for the next game,” he finally said.

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. The statement confused you. Worry crept in as you thought about your friends, who were about to play the fifth game. If you couldn’t do anything, did that mean they were in serious danger? What kind of game was it that even a disguised manager couldn’t intervene?

You stared at him wide-eyed. “What’s the next game?”

In-ho looked at you like he had been expecting the question but dreaded it. He didn’t answer. His hesitation only fueled your curiosity.

“What is it?” you pressed softly.

He looked away, casting his gaze down. His jaw tightened as he seemed to struggle with himself. Finally, after a long pause, he admitted, “The next game is called ‘Why Did You Come to My House.’”

You frowned. You recognized that children’s game. It was a team-based competition where one side had to take over all the members of the other team to win. But something didn’t add up. How could a game like that lead to player eliminations?

A heavy silence settled between you. In-ho glanced at you, noticing your confusion. He quickly averted his gaze before speaking again, “The surviving players will be separated randomly into either the blue or red team.”

Without another word, he turned toward the door. You could tell there was more he wanted to explain, so you followed him. The next room was dimly lit, its centerpiece a mannequin dressed in a black suit with a golden animal mask covering its head.

In-ho stopped before the dressing table. He reached for a small bottle of men’s hair oil, pouring a little into his hands before combing his hair back neatly. The slicked-back style made his sharp features even more defined. As he worked, he continued his explanation.

“Before they are taken to the next game’s location, the players will queue in front of a giant gumball machine. Each player will take a turn and receive either a red or blue ball. They will be split into two teams, regardless of their X or O patch.”

In-ho set down the bottle of hair oil and glanced at you through the mirror. His expression remained unreadable, but there was an unease in the way he carefully adjusted his collar.

“How much do you know about Why Did You Come to My House?” In-ho asked.

“A lot,” you replied. “Players split into two teams. One person from each team plays rock-paper-scissors to decide who attacks first. The two teams then stand in parallel lines, holding hands. The game begins with the defending team moving forward singing the first line of the song while the attacking team steps back. Then the attackers step forward singing the second line. The defenders ask, ‘Which flower?’ and the attackers name a player to steal. That named player faces an opponent in rock-paper-scissors. If they lose, they move into the attacker's team. If they win, they stay. This continues until one team takes all the players.”

In-ho adjusted his hair, his fingers running through it as he gave a slight nod. “That’s right. But the rules are different this time.”

You swallowed hard. The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. “What’s changed?”

He turned to you, his expression sharp. “Players still form two teams, but now, each round, both teams pick one player to face off in rock-paper-scissors. The loser isn’t just switching teams anymore. They will be eliminated.”

Your breath caught. “Eliminated? As in…”

“Yes,” In-ho said. “They’re removed from the game entirely. The rounds continue until one team loses all its players. The survivors on the winning team move on.”

Silence settled between you. The game had transformed into something far more brutal. There would be no second chances, no coming back. Just win, or disappear.

The moment the words left In-ho’s mouth, a wave of emotions crashed over you. Shock paralyzed your body. Another simple childhood game turned into a merciless execution? Your stomach twisted as the reality of it set in. Your friends, the people you had fought to protect, would be forced into a game where their survival hinged on nothing more than a hand gesture. The thought made you feel sick.

But there must be some way to stop it. Some loophole, some hidden rule that could be exploited. But as you looked at In-ho’s face, the hardened gaze he wore like armor, you knew there was none. His silence only confirmed it.

You could imagine Jun-hee, her hands cradling her belly protectively as her soft eyes darted around. You thought of Gi-hun, his stubbornness keeping him upright even as fear gnawed at his resolve. Dae-ho, Jung-bae, Hyun-ju, Yong-sik, his mother. All of them, at the mercy of this game. A game where luck decided their fate.

Then came the sadness. A deep, suffocating grief at the thought of losing them. The bonds you had formed weren’t just for survival. They had become your family. And now, one by one, they would be taken from you. The worst part was knowing you could do nothing to stop it. You had never felt so powerless.

But beneath all that pain, another emotion burned hotter, stronger. Betrayal.

Your fists clenched, your nails digging into your palms as you turned to In-ho. The man who had sheltered you, who had given you a role that kept you safe, was the same man overseeing this massacre.

“How could you let this continue?” you demanded, your voice barely above a whisper, but laced with anger.

In-ho sighed before he looked away. “These are the rules. The games have to continue.”

“Not like this!” you snapped. “Not them! They don’t deserve this!”

He replied, his voice colder now, as he stared at himself in the mirror. “But the games go on regardless of what we think. Regardless of what I think.”

You took a step closer, forcing him to meet your glare through the mirror. “But you have the power to stop it.”

“It isn’t that easy,” he turned and looked back at you. “Do you think I own this room? That I started this place? Do you think I’m the only one pulling the strings?”

“You enforce it,” you shot back. “You make sure it happens. You wear that mask and pretend you don’t care, but you do. I know you do. I saw the way you cared about Jun-hee.”

For the first time, a flicker of something flashed across In-ho’s face. A crack in the carefully constructed armor he always wore. But it was gone in an instant.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel,” he said, his voice quiet. “This is not the first time a pregnant player participates. It won’t change anything.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs. “So you’ll just let them die?”

He exhaled slowly, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “That’s how this place works. That’s how it’s always worked everywhere.”

The words stung, but they weren’t enough to shake your fury. “And you’re okay with that?”

Silence.

That was all the answer you needed.

You took a step back, feeling the weight of the conversation settle on your shoulders. It was suffocating. You had thought, maybe foolishly, that In-ho still had some shred of humanity left. That beneath the mask and the cold exterior, there was a part of him that regretted all of this. Maybe there was. But it wasn’t enough.

“So…” you stared at him in disbelief and shock. “Gi-hun was right, after all. You saw us like horses. We’re just trashes to you.”

In-ho’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened slightly as if you had struck something deep within him. His usual unreadable expression faltered, the cracks in his composed mask growing more visible. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came. His lips parted, then pressed into a thin line, hesitation flickering across his face.

You glowered at him, the weight of everything suffocating. Without another word, you spun on your heel and marched into the bedroom. Your heart pounded as you scanned the room, searching for something. The floor was clean, no discarded clothes or signs of disorder. Your gaze landed on his study desk. There, neatly folded on the chair, was your square guard’s hot pink jumpsuit.

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed it and swiftly started putting it on. Your movements were sharp, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and anger. You slid your legs in first, then pulled the sleeves over your arms. As you zipped it up, the door behind you creaked open.

“What are you doing?” In-ho’s voice carried disbelief and frustration.

You didn’t turn around. “I’m going back out there.”

“You can’t,” he said, stepping further into the room. “It’s too dangerous.”

You scoffed, adjusting the jumpsuit. “And it’s not dangerous for them? For Gi-hun, for Jun-hee, for the others? They don’t even have a choice, but I do. And I’m not staying here while they’re out there fighting for their lives.”

In-ho exhaled sharply. “The other guards will not stand by and let you ruin the games.”

Finally, you turned to face him. His hair was neatly slicked back. His expression was a storm of conflicting emotions. Anger, concern, something else buried beneath it all.

You asked pointedly, “But will they shoot me once they know who I am?”

He stayed silent, his gloved hands balling into fists at his sides.

“That’s what I thought,” you muttered, brushing past him toward the door. But before you could reach it, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

“Stop,” he said, his voice lower now, almost desperate. “You think you can handle this by yourself? Do you think you can stop games that have been operating for more than thirty years so easily? Stopping this place wouldn’t stop this operation completely.”

You yanked your wrist free. “Maybe not. But at least I won’t be watching from the sidelines while my friends die.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes dark with frustration. “If you get exposed, it will be hard for me to cover you.”

“I don’t care.”

He exhaled deeply as if trying to steady himself. “No matter what you do, don’t do anything rash. I care about you, but if you—”

“Then help me save them, please,” you pleaded, cutting him off.

“Them?” In-ho’s eyes narrowed as he regarded you. “Do you mean you want to save all of them? Even the ones who only care about themselves? Even someone like player 100?”

You fell silent, momentarily caught off guard by his reaction. It was in that instant you realized his defenses were beginning to crack, exposing a glimpse of the deeply held beliefs he had tried so hard to mask. 

“I want to save whoever I can,” you said firmly.

In-ho scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s naive.”

He turned away for a moment as if trying to compose himself. Then, when he faced you again, his expression was steeled with something harsher. “Some of them deserve this.”

You frowned, unsure if you had heard him correctly. “Deserve what?”

“The games,” he stood rigidly as he observed your reaction, his voice taking on a colder edge. “You think everyone here is innocent? That they all got caught up in this unfairly? That’s not true. Some of them are here because of their own selfishness. Their greed. Their complete disregard for others."

He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “Do you know what player 100 did? He borrowed billions from desperate people, promising high returns, only to vanish with their savings. He destroyed families. And player 226? He pushed his own brother into ruin just to escape his own debt, but still it isn't enough for him. Tell me, do they deserve your sympathy?”

You hesitated.

“People like them,” he continued, his voice laced with conviction, “are the reason this world is broken. They climb over others, they exploit, they lie, and when they fall, they expect to be saved. Why should you risk yourself for them?”

You stayed quiet, giving him space to speak. You wanted to see what was hidden behind his guarded expressions, to understand his views and the way he managed these games. You had fallen for Oh Young-il, but you still needed to know more about Hwang In-ho. The man behind the mask. The enforcer of the rules.

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down, pushing forward.

“Then what about me?” you asked, your voice steady despite the unease in your chest. “Am I a trash in your eyes too?”

In-ho stiffened. His jaw clenched, his fingers curling into his palms. His breath came slower, heavier as if you had struck something deep within him. For a long moment, he didn’t respond, and the air between you felt heavier than ever.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re different.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

“How so?” you asked, your voice softer now, wary of his answer.

In-ho’s gaze wavered just slightly. “You…"

Your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened, anticipation shimmering in them like a reflection of the truth you had been waiting to hear. It felt like the answer was right there, hanging in the air, waiting to be spoken. A confirmation of something unspoken yet deeply felt. It felt like this answer would determine everything – whether you could trust him, whether there was a future for the two of you at all.

But just as the moment reached its breaking point, a sharp, static crackle interrupted it. The radio inside In-ho’s coat pocket buzzed to life, and the distorted voice of the masked officer cut through the heavy silence.

“Captain, the VIPs have arrived.”

The words shattered the fragile space between you like glass meeting concrete. In-ho’s expression stiffened instantly, the vulnerability in his eyes vanishing behind a hardened mask. He reached into his coat, pulling out the radio, his grip tightening around it as if bracing himself.

He pressed the button and told through the radio, “Understood. I will be there.”

He put away the radio and turned to you. “They’re here earlier than expected. I have to go.”

The abrupt shift left you feeling unsteady as if the ground beneath your feet had tilted. The moment that had almost happened between you was gone, yanked away by the cruel reality of where you both stood.

In-ho walked back toward the door and said without looking back, “Stay here.”

You glared at his back, frustration boiling inside you. Like hell you were going to sit here while your friends fought for their lives. Without a second thought, you grabbed your manager mask from the table and followed him out into the hallway.

As you caught up, you saw him raise his Front Man mask and fit it over his face, the sharp angles making him look as unreadable as ever. You stood behind him and said with a firm tone, “There’s no way I’m standing aside and watching my friends die.”

He didn’t stop moving. Your voice remained low yet insistent as you added, “Is there something you can do? Anything? Can you let them live even if they get eliminated?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned around and kept walking. He exited the dressing room and into the hallway. You followed him like an aimless kitten. His silence dragged the tension between you to its breaking point.

You wanted to grab his arm, force him to stop, but something about the way he carried himself told you that he was already at war with whatever answer he would give.

Suddenly, he halted in the middle of the hallways. It’s as if he knew that you were following him and would not stop unless he gave a clear answer.

He let out a slow breath and spoke up, voice distorted and robotic behind that mask. “If I do that, it will go against everything I enforce in these games.”

You frowned, frustration simmering beneath your skin. You took a step closer until you stood right beside him. With his body still facing the door and yours facing him, you asked, “What exactly do you uphold in these games?”

He turned his head slightly, just enough so you could see the sharp lines of his mask in the dim light.

“Fairness,” he said. “Equality. Players and guards alike. The rules apply to everyone.”

You exhaled, the ache in your chest growing heavier. “But this is different. Their lives matter too. Couldn’t you change that? Just this once? Just for them only.”

You hesitated before continuing, your voice barely above a whisper as you counted your friends who were still playing. “Jun-hee, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, Yong-sik and his mother, Hyun-ju, Se-mi, and also Myung-gi. Couldn’t you hide them if they get eliminated, and just let the O players finish the games.”

Silence stretched between you. In-ho stood still, his masked face tilted slightly downward as if staring at you. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He simply watched you, the stillness making your heart pound harder. Was he considering it? Was there a part of him that wanted to agree?

Seconds passed. Then a minute.

You held your breath, waiting for something. Anything. The soft hum of distant machinery filled the space, but all you could focus on was him. The way he was standing. The way his head was slightly bowed as if your words had reached a place within him that even he wasn’t sure existed anymore.

Then, finally, he inhaled slowly.

“If I do that,” he said at last, his voice low, careful, “I put everything at risk. Myself. The structure. The rules that keep this place from falling apart.”

You swallowed hard. “But what happens if you don’t? What happens when you watch them die, knowing you could’ve done something?”

A flicker of hesitation. You saw it in the way his posture shifted, in the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly at his sides. He had thought about this before. Maybe not about your friends specifically, but about something like this. About the cost of playing his role.

“I don’t have the luxury of questioning these things,” he finally muttered.

You stepped closer, your voice softer now, almost pleading. “Then why are you hesitating?”

He turned fully to face you now. “Because you’re asking me to break the rules. To compromise everything I’ve built to keep order.”

“And I’m asking you to remember that you’re human.”

Another silence stretched between you. You could feel it crackling in the air, the tension thick and suffocating. He was fighting something inside himself, something he didn’t want to admit.

For the first time since you had known him, he looked at you in long silence as if he wasn’t sure of himself. As if, just maybe, you had found the one crack in his armor that he had spent years trying to keep hidden.

And you wanted to put more cracks in his wall. Stepping closer, you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze with wide, unwavering eyes. The height difference made you appear smaller, but there was nothing fragile about the way you spoke. Your voice was soft, yet edged with something sharp.

“If you can’t do anything, then fine,” you said. “But if they die, I will hate you.”

In-ho remained silent. He took in the restrained fury burning behind your eyes, the way your body stood tense, ready to pounce like a mother cat protecting her own.

You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself. “Is this who you want to be? A man who lets people die because everyone is like a trash to him? A man who stands by and watches when he could’ve made a difference?”

Still, no answer. You shook your head.

“I refuse to believe you’ve lost every part of yourself,” you said. “The man I see now… the one who hesitates, who lingers on my words… he is not a machine. He is not just a mask. And I don’t think he wants to be.”

Silence stretched between you.

His posture remained rigid, but his breathing had changed. A fraction deeper. A fraction slower. Like something was unraveling inside him, thread by thread.

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to answer. You didn’t know if your words got through his wall – his mask. But you couldn’t linger here any longer. Your friends’ lives mattered more.

Reaching for your manager mask, you pulled it over your face, the smooth surface cool against your skin. Without another word, you turned and strode toward the elevator. You pressed the down button, and almost immediately, the doors slid open.

Stepping inside, you turned around just in time to see him still standing in the same spot, unmoving. He looked frozen in place as if caught between the choice of letting you go and calling you back.

Then, just as the elevator doors began to close, the radio in his coat crackled to life.

“Captain, the VIPs are looking for you,” came the masked officer’s distorted voice from the other end.

The last thing you saw before the doors shut was In-ho, his body stiffening at the summons. And then he was gone, swallowed by the mechanical whir of the elevator descending.

***

You were in a storage room somewhere within the game management facility. Your mask was off, clutched tightly in your hand. Sweat clung to your skin, making strands of hair stick to your face. You stared at the floor, lost in thought, your mind racing through everything you had just learned.

“So that’s the next game,” Gyeong-seok murmured, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

You had managed to find him and 011 among the sea of soldiers. 011, ever the cautious one, had led you both to this storage room, away from prying eyes.

You had told them everything you knew – or almost everything. You had carefully left out certain details: the true identity of the Front Man, his past as player 001, and most importantly, your involvement with him. Some things were too dangerous – and embarrassing for you – to reveal.

011, her own mask discarded on the table beside her, exhaled. Her dark hair clung to her skin just like yours as she said, “I’m surprised he told you that much.”

“Is there any loophole to save them?” you asked, voice tight with urgency. If anyone knew the inner workings of the games well enough to find an opening, it was her.

011’s gaze flickered, scanning your expression before she responded. “This game had been played twice throughout my years here. The way I see it... I think we can't do much.”

You and Gyeong-seok were stunned, the color draining from your faces as her words sank in. The latter straightened slightly from the wall and said, “Are you sure?”

She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his forlorn expression. With a heavy sigh, she said, “In this game, the soldiers shoot the players who lose rock, paper, scissors on the spot, just like in the Seven-Legged Hexathlon and the Open, Dongdaemun game. We can't change that. If some soldiers discreetly lead certain players to an isolated area for an out-of-sight elimination, it would raise too many questions.”

You lowered your gaze, staring at the floor, your mind racing for any possible way to save your friends. The more you thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. Every scenario ended the same way. With them being forced to play, with them losing, with them being gunned down in front of everyone.

Hopelessness settled into your bones. You felt so small, so powerless. It was suffocating. But you couldn’t accept it. There had to be a loophole somewhere. A flaw in the system. Something they hadn’t accounted for. You just had to find it.

Just as despair threatened to take over, 011 spoke up, “But there is a way…”

Your head snapped up, and Gyeong-seok turned sharply, both of you staring at her with wide, hopeful eyes. She hesitated, her gaze flickering between you both before she looked away. The weight of what she was about to say was clear in her hesitation.

“What is it?” Gyeong-seok asked in a hopeful tone.

011 let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms. “There’s an underground cave that leads to the ocean below us. Dive packs and oxygen tanks are stored there already. If I can make it there, I’ll swim to the nearest island and find help.”

You blinked, trying to process what she had just said. “Wait… there’s a way off this place?”

She nodded. “Yes. But it’s not simple. While the access to get there is easy, CCTVs are everywhere. If I’m caught in the live feed, the masked officer or the Front Man will be alerted.”

Gyeong-seok narrowed his eyes. “That's risky.”

011 met his gaze, her expression firm. “It is. But there is another access to get there. It's in the kitchen. But workers are regularly passing that room.”

You perked up. “Workers?”

011 nodded to you. “Yes, workers. This is where you could divert their attention as a manager.”

You swallowed hard, the idea beginning to take shape in your mind. “How far is the swim?”

“Roughly two kilometers,” she answered. “It won’t be easy, but there are dive packs.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of her out in open water, alone, with no guarantee she would make it. But what other option did you have? Staying meant watching your friends die one by one. Leaving meant at least trying to fight back.

Gyeong-seok stepped closer to 011, his voice firm. “I’ll come with you.”

011 seemed taken aback. “No. You stay here.”

“It is unsafe for you in the open ocean alone,” he insisted, locking eyes with her. “I will go with you.”

011 stared at him with quiet intensity, her hard gaze softening into doe-eyes for him. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was an unspoken tension between them. While 011 had always kept her distance from both you and Gyeong-seok, it suddenly became clear. There was a reason she had chosen to save him in the first place. It was thanks to him that she saved you too.

Finally, 011 turned to you. “Will you be okay staying here alone?”

You nodded without hesitation. “Yes. You two just go ahead. I will do whatever I can to keep them safe.”

With that, the plan was set.

011 led you toward the kitchen, guiding you through the corridors like she knew them by heart. As she had said, workers swarmed the kitchen, moving in and out like a colony of ants. The scent of food filled the air, mingling with the tension thick in your chest.

You straightened your posture, adopting the authoritative presence of a manager. With short, clipped orders, you directed the circle guards away, telling them to fetch supplies elsewhere. They obeyed without a question. Soon, the kitchen was empty, save for you, 011, and Gyeong-seok, now in disguise.

011 wasted no time. She turned off the lights, plunging the room into a dim haze. You locked the doors behind you, ensuring no one would walk in unexpectedly. Then, she and Gyeong-seok pushed a massive freezer away from the wall, the heavy metal scraping against the tiled floor.

Behind it was a crawl-sized hole, just big enough for a person to slip through.

“This is it,” 011 said, turning to you. “Please wait for us. We will alert the authorities as fast as possible.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Be careful.”

She nodded wordlessly before slipping through the hole, Gyeong-seok following close behind. Under 011's guidance, he grabbed the chain tied to the back of the freezer and pulled it back into its original position.

You exhaled slowly, turning back toward the locked door. Now came the hardest part: waiting.

***

You had returned to the control room, hands moving over the monitor as you operated the live feeds. Only the masked officer stood supervising the room, overseeing the overall operation. As you worked, your gaze occasionally flicked to the dormitory’s feed.

The players had just woken up. Your eyes scanned for your friends, and soon, you noticed a gathering. A small crowd had formed around one bed in the X zone. Your stomach tightened.

Before you could observe longer, the elevator chimed. The sound made your shoulders stiffen. You turned slightly, just enough to see the doors slide open, revealing Hwang In-ho clad in his full Front Man attire. His presence alone made the air in the control room heavier. He stepped out, surveying the space with his usual scrutiny. Instinctively, you looked away, forcing your attention back on the feeds, watching as pink guards moved through the halls.

You could feel his gaze lingering on you. It burned through your back, making every movement at your console feel heavy and scrutinized.

You couldn’t believe you had slept with him… multiple rounds. You had slept with the overseer of this whole operation. You pursed your lips to a thin line beneath your manager mask and mused, Gosh, you really are a whore.

“What’s the status on the players’ breakfast?” In-ho finally spoke in his deep, distorted voice behind that mask.

The masked officer, standing near the main monitors, turned toward him. “They are ready to be distributed.”

In-ho gave a curt nod. “And the next game’s preparations?”

“Everything is on schedule,” the masked officer responded. “We expect to begin at the designated time.”

Before In-ho could reply, static crackled through the masked officer’s radio. “Officer, we have a situation in the dormitory.”

Both the Front Man and the masked officer turned their attention to the monitors. You stole another glance at the live feed, your heart pounding faster. The cluster of players in the X zone had grown, figures moving frantically around the same bed.

“What is it?” the masked officer asked.

The guard on the other end hesitated for a moment before replying, “It appears a player is giving birth.”

Your breath caught. Your fingers froze over the console. Your eyes widened.

Jun-hee is giving birth.

SFW ver. : Chapter 18.1

NEXT : Chapter 19

PREV : Chapter 17.2

Story Masterlist

Thank you for the warm wishes, everyone! I am still a bit ill which is odd because a normal fever usually lasts for 3-4 days for me but now it still persists albeit very vaguely. But I've taken medicines and all so I will be fine. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback about my story, the characters, the "you", and practically anything! I love reading your comments, especially long ones! It motivates me a lot! What do you think about In-ho's flashback and P.O.V? Did I make him OOC? Is the length of that flashback good enough? Then, what about In-ho's care for you after your lovemaking? And that's not the end of it. What's your thoughts on you and him doing lovemaking again... multiple rounds? Did you expect that or was surprised? And what about your confrontation with him? He told you about the fifth game. Do you know where I got that Why Did You Come To My House game details from? And oh, what about 011 and Gyeong-seok going to the underground cave and leaving the place to find help? Do you think it will happen that way in the third season? Finally, what do you think about Jun-hee giving birth at this moment? Considering there have been signs and tells in the series that she was due, it is predicted that she would give birth in this place. I really want to know your reaction on this! Anyway, thank you very much for giving my story a chance. I love reading and re-reading all of your comments!

Leave a comment on the masterlist post to be added to the taglist.

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

MIRACLES:

(MISTAKES 2nd part)

Chishiya x reader

Chishiya was a clever man; everything he did had logic behind it, even if no one else but him could see it. Chishiya liked to feel in control, as if he were sitting on a transparent throne that no one else could perceive, from which he could watch everything and know, with a single glance, the strengths and weaknesses of everyone around him. This had served him well on many occasions: in his student life, in his professional life, and in Borderlands. The games ceased to be unpredictable or surprising once you understood the reasons driving the players to survive, and of course, when those reasons could be used against them.

It had never been a problem for him, and he never thought it could be. Until she came along.

Y/N turned his world upside down when, even after studying her, Chishiya was unable to use her vulnerabilities against her. She seemed so innocent, so pure… Chishiya firmly believed that what he did had purpose, that people didn't deserve to live more than he did, and that everyone had to look out for their own interests. But that night, in that game, Chishiya couldn’t help but save her. At that moment, his ideals shifted, and when the game was about to end, and two people were needed to finish it, Chishiya no longer thought about why he had helped her. For the first time in his life, he considered it the work of fate. But no, Chishiya wasn't a strong believer in predestined plans or in paths and lines that cross, leading you to find the person you're destined for. So, he immediately called it coincidence, chance, and carried on with his life.

The man refused to think about the girl for almost a week. Looking back, he didn’t recognize himself—forming bonds with a complete stranger and, for brief moments, prioritizing her life over his own survival. But fate, or maybe coincidence, struck again. The man was about to turn around when he saw her walk into The Beach, and for the first time in Borderlands, he felt weak. Until then, he could pretend that nothing had happened, that he hadn’t broken character by helping a complete stranger, that he hadn’t been vulnerable. But there she was, and his facade was in danger of collapsing.

To his surprise, the girl made no move to approach him. “Maybe she doesn’t recognize me, or maybe she doesn’t remember me,” Chishiya thought, ignoring the sharp sting in his heart. After all, wasn’t that what he wanted… right? He watched in disgust as Niragi approached the girl, flirting as he asked her name.

“Y/N,” she said. And from that moment on, his vulnerability had a name.

A second miracle had to happen for Chishiya to be forced to face her. The girl had quickly become friends with Kuina, and when he saw them together by the pool, he knew he was doomed. In fact, it wasn’t long before Kuina insisted on introducing them.

“Y/N, Chishiya. Chishiya, Y/N,” Kuina said briefly. Maybe it wasn’t so brief, but Chishiya stopped listening when he got lost in the girl's gaze. Her eyes were different from that night—they were alive, with a hint of something he couldn’t decipher. He wondered if his eyes seemed as beautiful to her as hers did to him.

“We know each other,” the girl said. Chishiya tried not to react, and Kuina looked curiously at the pair but, in what could be considered a third miracle, decided to say nothing.

Though Chishiya thought with feigned annoyance that the trio would spend time together from then on, Kuina and Y/N seemed to have other plans. Chishiya pretended he didn’t care, that he didn’t want to be the one sitting next to her, the one bearing her weight whenever she laughed and leaned on Kuina. He pretended he didn’t want to be the one receiving her hugs or holding her hand when something made her nervous. But there came a day when he had no other choice.

Kuina had gone off to a game and hadn’t returned. Y/N cried all night in his arms on the rooftop, clutching the fabric of his hoodie with trembling hands as she sobbed, letting her tears fall freely. Chishiya wasn’t proud of what he did that starless night. Kuina wasn’t dead—he knew that. And not because he assumed or hoped so, no. He knew. He had overheard the Hatter talking with Ann the day before about something related to a search for medical supplies. They had agreed that Ann would take someone after the night’s game to retrieve items for the first-aid kit, and that someone was Kuina. But Chishiya didn’t have the courage to tell Y/N. Yes, it could be considered selfish, but it was a rare occasion where he felt he could hold the girl without feeling like he was betraying his character. After all, he was doing it because she needed it, not because he wanted to…

The days passed, and the girl seemed to take a strange liking to staying close to him, as if that night, amidst tears, she had opened the door to a new kind of relationship. And the man didn’t complain. Until that night when everything changed.

Chishiya spent the week following the tower game plagued with unpleasant images flooding his mind. How had he let himself get so entangled? He, the man who kept relationships and contact to a minimum, who used people only to escape that place… He, who had sworn not to form any bonds with anyone, had fallen in love. And he wasn’t going to allow it. He cut all contact with Y/N, rebuilding an icy wall to separate his feelings from his rationality, locking the former away in a corner of his mind. Everything was going fine until he saw her with him—with Tatta.

At first, he tried to ignore the pangs in his chest and the ache in his soul. From a rational point of view, she was simply seeking what he knew she needed and what he had refused to give her: affection, physical contact, someone to lean on. He had been that someone for a time, and it was he who had closed that door, so he had no right to complain. At least, that’s what he tried to internalize to convince himself he hadn’t been a foolish child, letting his fears overtake his senses and pushing him to act like a scared puppy hiding under a flimsy piece of cardboard. He tried his best to avoid them, to pretend they weren’t there, but sometimes, he needed to see her. And then he would walk, stealthily but with heavy steps, like moving through quicksand, just to get a glimpse of the girl, to make sure she was okay, still alive. Because contrary to what Chishiya had believed when he impulsively decided to cut her off, the unpleasant images and intrusive thoughts hadn’t stopped. In fact, they had worsened. But if there was one thing Chishiya had, it was pride, and he wasn’t about to backtrack, grovel for affection, or admit he was wrong. So, he simply let the days pass in furtive glances that only sank him deeper into his misery.

“Are you playing tonight?” Kuina asked abruptly as she walked into his room.

“No,” he replied, lying on his bed with his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

“Y/N is,” Kuina said. Chishiya tried not to show the effect her words had on him, but the woman was smart and, though she had given him space, she knew exactly what was tormenting her friend’s mind.

Chishiya pressed his lips together but said nothing.

“She’s going alone. Tatta is in another group, just like me and Ann,” she continued, clearly trying to provoke a reaction from Chishiya. “In fact, I think she’s with Niragi.” And that was the trigger. Chishiya stood up calmly, getting out of bed and leaving the room as if no one else was there. Kuina stood, watching the door close behind him, and laughed.

It was clear Kuina's words had deeply affected him. He wouldn’t show it, but his stomach churned at the thought of Y/N alone in a game. He didn’t like her being with Tatta, nor the fact that he wouldn’t be there to secretly ensure her safety, but going to a game with the maniac Niragi was something entirely different.

Chishiya watched Y/N embrace Tatta and exchange words he couldn’t hear from a distance. They were saying goodbye, that much was obvious. He could see Y/N forcing a weak smile, the same smile she used to give him when they parted before a game, assuring him they’d see each other again. If it hurt him, he didn’t show it. The man moved forward when he saw Tatta walking away after making the most of his time holding the girl’s hand, and he didn’t realize how close he had gotten until Y/N turned and found herself face-to-face with him. Her expression, which had shown sadness and barely disguised fear, shifted abruptly when her eyes met his. Her face reflected pure surprise, and Chishiya could even sense her breath catch in her throat. A few seconds of total silence passed, where all the noise around them faded into a mere echo, and Chishiya felt himself levitate, only to crash back down to earth when Y/N walked right past him without a second glance. Chishiya swallowed hard and regained his senses, quickly reconstructing his facade, which had slipped in mere milliseconds. He leaned against the car with his arms crossed, eyes forward, wearing a cold, bored expression as he tried to calm the heart hammering in his chest. The girl stood on the opposite side of the vehicle, also with her arms crossed and her gaze fixed ahead, wearing a cold, bored expression as she tried to calm her heart pounding in her chest. The girl was on the opposite side of the vehicle, also with her arms crossed, her mind drifting toward those thoughts she had been ignoring. “What is she doing here? I was doing just fine without him…” She knew it was a lie, but she had discovered soon after her painful rejection that the easiest thing was to pretend she didn’t need him when, in reality, it was all her body craved and her mind pleaded for.

“It’s going to be a long night.”

It turned out Kuina had lied about Niragi’s presence in the group. “I lie about your death, and you lie about Y/N’s company; we’re even,” Chishiya thought as he got into the car and fastened his seatbelt.

There were only four people, so the vehicle was practically empty. The driver had designated his friend as the co-pilot, leaving the uncomfortable pair in the back. Y/N refused to look at him throughout the journey, keeping her full attention on the buildings rushing past the window. For his part, Chishiya watched the girl in the rearview mirror, feeling a pang of nostalgia for her soft features, now tense, that had once looked at him with warmth.

The driver and co-pilot engaged in lighthearted, trivial chatter, and Chishiya was always impressed by the power of The Beach to change people’s mindsets; even though they had been partying just an hour earlier, they were now heading straight to the slaughterhouse. Y/N had always been a different story; she tried to approach things with a realistic optimism that made her aware of her surroundings. This had impressed him when they first met; she was nothing like the other residents of the hotel, and though it initially seemed foolish, he couldn’t help but be drawn to the comfort she offered. But he preferred discretion, reserve, and caution, which is why he remained stoic in his seat, and no one would be able to tell just how nervous, agitated, and even scared he felt at that moment. No one except Y/N. She might not have been the most capable in physical challenges or intelligence tests, but she excelled at reading people. She had been close enough to Chishiya and long enough to know that something was troubling the quiet man, something that made him withdraw, yet even knowing this, she wasn’t willing to forgive him so easily.

The buildings continued to disappear behind the car window, but Y/N felt time stand still when she sensed the gentle contact of a hand on her knee. She startled momentarily and turned her gaze to Chishiya. He wasn’t looking at her; his eyes remained fixed ahead with a relaxed expression, as if, for the first time in his life, he hadn’t initiated physical contact. Y/N watched him for a moment, waiting for him to turn toward her so she could ask what he thought he was doing. But that didn’t happen; Chishiya remained calm, eyes forward, his hand frozen on her knee. If Y/N hadn’t known it was the man’s hand, she might have thought a mannequin was touching her—motionless, barely warm, almost lifeless. But when the girl finally surrendered and turned her gaze back to the window, she felt the hand begin to trace regular patterns moving up her thigh; they were abstract shapes as she perceived them, and instead of swatting it away, which her pride urged her to do, she stayed still, savoring that unusual moment that could very well be considered a miracle.

Chishiya continued tracing patterns on the girl’s leg throughout the journey. “Abstract patterns,” she would say, though nothing could be further from the truth. With soft, steady touch, Chishiya traced the same phrase over and over on the girl’s bare skin: “I’m sorry.”

© 2024 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

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Hey there, amazing readers!🌟 You made it to the end of "Mistakes"! What did you think? 💬 I'm super curious to hear your thoughts—favorite parts, surprises, or anything else!

Let me know in the comments! Your feedback keeps the story alive! 🌟💖

[queenbee298]

Hello I have a few Ideas on what you can do.

How does Doey feel about Christmas?

What if the player has a slight meltdown due to the stress of everyone arguing?

Do the toys feel guilty about the scars Angel has?

(this one's in the factory) What if the player became a toy? how would they safe haven crew react?

Not sure if you lost interest in Poppy playtime and moved on but here are some ideas!

These are really good ideas and I’m glad you requested it. Sorry if I’m not posting much, I’m just so tired and stressed.

🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹🩹

1. Christmas is a beautiful holiday. Spreading time with friends and family, giving gifts, and making it through another year. You and the toys were all happy to spread your first Christmas together.

However, there was one person how wasn’t, Doey, or should I saw, Jack.

Matthew And Kevin were happy to Celebrate their first Christmas, Jack’s last Christmas was with his parents, opening his gifts, and celebrating.

But after the incident with him falling into the Dough that made dough, he doesn’t like to talk about Christmas.

Y/n: “How are you feeling about Christmas, Jack?”

Doey (Jack): “Nothing…”

Y/n: “You know you can take to make about it.”

Doey (Jack): “I’m just nervous if something happens again.”

Y/n: “No… That won’t happen. Me and the others won’t let anything happen to any of you.”

Doey(Matthew): “It’s okay, Jack. Mom/Dad, Kevin, me, and the others are always here for you.”

Doey(Jack): “Promise?”

Doey(Matthew): “Promise.”

Doey(Kevin): “Plus Christmas will be fun! It is the season of getting!”

Y/n: “Don’t you mean the season of giving?”

Doey(Kevin): “Yeah! The more you give, the more I get!”

3. You and the toys escaped the factory. You stopped the prototype and freed the toys, but not all the scars healed. You were covered in scars from the factory.

From the Huggy, Mommy, Catnap, Yarnaby, The Doctor, and The Prototype.

Claw marks, bites, scratches and bruises. The toys would see your scars. They hated the trouble you’ve gone through just for them.

Poppy still feels guilty. She could’ve let you escape before, but she didn’t. Not everyone trusted her when they all were in the factory. Leaving the safe haven, stopping you from escaping, getting Kissy attacked, and not explaining what she did during the ‘Hour of Joy.’

However, you knew she was just a child like everyone else.

4. It was time for you to face the Doctor. But now, your luck ran out. The Doctor caught and decided to make a game out of you.

You were strapped down on a desk and all you could feel was pain. Needles poking, organs being removed, tears streaming down, skin cut out. Everything hurts. Over and over and over again.

Back at the Safe Haven, it’s been hours since you returned. Poppy asked Doey to find you. Doey looked high and low, but it’s like you just vanished. Until, he heard soft crying.

He found you, but you weren’t the same as before. The Doctor caught you and turned you into a toy. You were a discontinued puppet toy.

You were a tall puppet with a black body and white stripes, purple streams down your eyes, a white face, green eyes, and covered in blood.

Doey: “Y-y/n?”

Y/n: “Doey… Please help… it’s hurt… Everything hurts…”

Doey wasted no time to rush you into Safe Haven. Once he got them, everyone was horrified.

The mini toys were afraid, Poppy was in shock. She saw you, bloody and no longer human, but now just like them.

You couldn’t do much in your new body. You were still in pain and very weak. Doey and Dogday stayed with you 24/7. They would try to help you get around. You couldn’t help now. You felt useless now.

Kissy, Dogday, and the mini toys spend time with you. They tried you comfort you, knowing how they suffered the Doctor’s experiments.

Poppy felt extremely guilty for what happened to you. Now you became a toy, you fell victim to the Doctor, because of her. She tried apologizing to you, but you didn’t want to listen, no one did.

As for you, it wasn’t easy adjusting to your new body. You didn’t have feet anymore, just skinny legs. Doey helped you get around. You didn’t need food, your mouth didn’t even move.

Dogday: “How are you feeling, Angel?”

Y/n: “I’m not in pain, but walking is hard now.”

Doey: “The medic said you’ll have to do physical therapy to get you walking, but don’t worry, pal! We’re behind you all the way!

It felt nice to have good friends by your side.

As you were talking to the mini toys, Dogday, and Doey, Poppy came up to you.

Poppy: “Uhh… Y/n?”

Doey: “What do you want, Poppy?”

Poppy: “Please, I just wanted to talk to Y/n.”

Y/n: “….”

Poppy: “I know you’re mad, but I just wanted to tell you I’m so sorry. I never thought the Doctor would do this to you. And I’m sorry for what he did to you. I didn’t what this to happen to you, Honest …. I hope you can forgive me…”

Y/n: “…Forgive…you? FORGIVE YOU!?”

Poppy: “Y/n…”

Y/n: “HOW CAN I FORGIVE YOU!? YOU CAUSED THIS! I KNEW TRUSTING YOU WAS A MISTAKE! NOW I CAN’T LEAVE THIS FUCKING FACTORY NOW! NOW I CAN’T HELP ANYONE NOW! ALL BECAUSE OF YOU! I KNEW OPENING THAT CASE WAS A BAD IDEA. THE ONLY THING I WANT FOR YOU IS TO LEAVE ME ALONE! IF I EVER SEE YOU LOOK AT ME, I’LL MAKE YOU WISH YOU DIED DURING THE HOUR OF JOY!”

Poppy: “…”

Poppy didn’t say another word and walked away, leaving you alone.

You felt so much anger towards Poppy for draining you into this mess, The Doctor for turning you into a puppet, and yourself for being so weak. But someday, you would have your revenge and never let them hurt you or anyone else again.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

I hoped you all enjoyed these ideas. Sorry I didn’t write #2, I had no idea how to write. As for the poll, send in something funny you what to see. See you next time.

[wlntrsldler]

crush | sam obisanya

based on crush by tessa violet

description: you started getting origami hearts from a secret admirer. you secretly hoped it was a certain richmond player.

warnings: language-- it's ted lasso, what did ya expect?; kissing! a looootttt of smiling from sam, richmond himbos, sam and jamie bffs

pairing: sam obisanya x f! reader (she/her)

word count: 2.8K

ted lasso requests are open! | main masterlist

It started on a random Tuesday. 

You walked into the coaches’ office where your temporary desk was located– Beard nearly begged you to take Trent’s old desk because the office without Ted or Trent just felt too empty– and you saw it sitting on top of your work laptop. 

It was a red, origami heart. 

You looked around, puzzled, trying to figure out who left it, or at the very least, if everyone else had one on their desks too. You tried to catch someone’s eye, perhaps they’d reveal who left it on your desk, but all the coaches were in the locker room talking strategy with the entire team. 

Maybe the coaches did get one and they just put it away before you got here. After all, you got to work an hour after everyone else did. You picked up the heart and turned it over to find something scribbled on the back. 

“If I were loved, as I desire to be” - Lord Alfred Tennyson

You furrowed your eyebrows, holding the origami heart gently as you ransacked your small bookshelf beside your desk. Your fingers traced the spines of the books you had laying around, stopping on your copy of Tennyson’s Poetical Works. A bookmark was peeking from the top of the book and you knew exactly what poem it was. 

The small smile on your lips threatened to get bigger as you read the poem over and over again. You were sure you read the poem about fifty times before you shut the book. By the time you got yourself situated, and placed the origami heart with the rest of the trinkets on your desk, it was time to join the coaches in the locker room. 

As you walked in, your eyes met Sam’s. He offered a small wave which you returned happily. Sam was the first friend you made at Nelson Road. When you were hired by KJPR to manage Richmond’s social media and newsletters, your time was split between the KJPR HQ and the facility. It wasn’t because Keeley needed you at KJPR, but more so because you were too nervous to work at a football club every day. 

Turns out, there was no reason to be nervous. About two weeks into your job, you found yourself itching to work onsite at Nelson Road. You loved the community they built there, their camaraderie, and their mutual trust, respect, and love for each other were more than admirable.

And sure, it also helped that Sam Obisanya was here, but that was neither here nor there. 

When Keeley and Rebecca first found out about your crush on Sam, which they had to force out of you– in your defense, you knew about Rebecca and Sam’s history and you didn’t want to step on any toes– they lost it. Rebecca, of course, reassured you that it was alright with her, especially since she was with her Dutchman now. The two women would make googly eyes at you whenever they saw you talking to Sam. 

“Y/N! Why else would he come into your office so often? He fancies you!” 

“He’s just borrowing a book, Keels,” you frowned, “Jan Maas and Bumbercatch do the same thing.” 

Rebecca rolled her eyes, “But they don’t do it as often.” 

You shrugged, “Maybe Sam just reads fast.” 

“Hopeless.” The two women said in sync, laughing as you threw a pen in their direction. 

Stuck in your little daydream, it was Roy’s booming voice that snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked a few times, surprised to find Sam’s eyes still on yours. You blushed under his intense stare and decided to be the one to break the connection. You walked out behind Nate, pretending to scribble on your notepad. 

“Y/N!” Colin called, running to catch up with you. He threw an arm around you, “How’s my favorite social media and branding manager?” 

You eyed him wearily but played along. You’d need a few more seconds to figure out what he wants, “I’m alright. How about you, Hughes?” 

“I’m doing fine, as well. Say, did you do something new to your hair? It looks absolutely lovel-”

“Give it up, mate,” Sam chimed in, removing Colin’s arm from around you, “She is not taking down your promo pictures from the grid.” 

You feigned a look of hurt, “And here I thought you were just being kind to me!”

Colin let out a long groan, sounding like a toddler throwing a tantrum, “The pictures aren’t flattering, Y/N! I look hideous.” 

You shook your head, leaning up to squish Colin’s cheeks together, “Impossible. You’re proper fit. All of you are.” 

While your (failed attempt) pep talk didn’t lift Colin’s spirits– he then went to Isaac and complained even more as he was stretching– Sam’s ears perked up at your words. Did you think he was fit? No, no, you couldn’t have. You were just saying it to make a point to Colin, right? You said the whole team was fit, not just him. 

You waved goodbye to Sam, smiling at him once again, and he swears he felt his knees buckle from under him. How he managed to make it the rest of the way to the pitch and how he managed to remember how to play football after that was truly beyond him.

“Lord help me,” Sam muttered, leaning down to touch his toes. 

“Yeah, lad,” Jamie grimaced next to him, though his tone was teasing. He watched the entire situation unfold. He knew about Sam’s pining and has been on the receiving end of many of Sam’s “Y/N is so lovely. Y/N is so smart. Isn’t she great?” ramblings. “You need some divine intervention because you’re pathetic.” 

Sam just shoved Jamie, but he knew he was right. He was a goner. 

You figured that the origami heart was a one-time thing, but to your surprise, you found another one on your desk the following day. This time it was blue. Excited to find out what lies behind the paper, you picked it up hurriedly, already smiling ear to ear before you even read it. 

“In case you ever foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you.” - Virginia Woolf

“What do you have there?” 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” You jumped at the sound of Keeley’s voice. She was leaning against the doorframe, smirking at your caught reaction. You held the heart between your pointer finger and thumb. You walked over to her, “This is the second one I’ve gotten.” 

Keeley’s eyes widened as she read the words on the back. She squealed, rushing to you to shake you by your shoulders, “Babe, you’ve got a secret admirer! Oh my gosh, this is so cute!” 

Keeley, bless her, was never one to be discreet when it came to all things romantic. Everyone in the locker room turned to look at you and Keeley in the coaches’ office, most with a confused expression on their face. You awkwardly waved before reaching over to pull Keeley into the covered part of the office. Sure, it wasn’t soundproof, but at least they didn’t get to see your embarrassment. 

“Hush,” you tutted, taking the heart back from her. You placed it beside the red one, smiling at how it made your desk look more colorful. “I do not have a secret admirer. Whoever is doing this obviously just has an affinity for good literature and wants to share it with me since I’m a reader.” 

“Right well I have an affinity for good champagne, but you don’t see me popping bottles with you every chance I get,” Keeley rolled her eyes, sitting on your desk. She picked up the origami heart from yesterday, groaning in disbelief, “Seriously, Y/N! How much more obvious can they get? They literally confessed their love for you in this one!” 

“I do not have a secret admirer.” 

“Who has a secret admirer?” 

You, once again, jumped at the sound of Rebecca’s voice. Her eyebrows were raised as she walked into your office, munching on some cookies. They weren’t better than Ted’s but she’d gotten used to having cookies for breakfast that she had to make do. 

“Y/N has a secret admirer, look!” Keeley ran to Rebecca, holding the two origami hearts in her hand. “Look at how cute these are.” 

Rebecca studied them closely, a large smirk on her face when she locked eyes with you, “This is Sam.” 

You blushed at the mention of his name, “It is not Sam because I don’t have a secret admirer. Now if you excuse me, I have work to do.” 

You tried your best to steady yourself as you walked out to the locker room. The coaches had finished their talk and the team was just doing some final things before they headed out to the pitch for training. 

Sam walked over to you, head tilted in question. “What was that about?” 

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “Keeley and Rebecca are just being silly.” 

He nodded, “Hey, I’m almost finished with the most recent book you loaned me.” 

“Are you?” You grinned at him. He mirrored you. “I love that book.” 

“I know,” Sam’s eyes drifted briefly to your lips. Oh, what he would give to feel your lips on his, even just for a second. He couldn’t help but keep staring at you as you went on about your favorite parts. Sam could picture the hundreds of outlined quotes you had in the copy he borrowed, different colored sticky notes and highlighters for different things. He noticed that as you spoke you stayed within the confines of the first part of the book. Sam realized later that it was because you didn’t want to risk spoiling anything for him. His heart warmed at the thought. 

By the time you finished recounting the book, you were red and out of breath. You placed a hand on Sam’s bicep, not missing the way he tensed under your palm. You could feel the outline of his hard muscles under his kit, which made you suck in a breath. “I’ll see you around, Sam. Come find me when you finish the book and I’ll let you talk my ear off about it. Only fair since I just did it to you.” 

He chuckled, watching you disappear into the hallway where Higgins' office was, the opposite way of the pitch where he was headed. His eyes followed your figure until you fully disappeared, which meant that he was not paying attention to where he was going. Right before his body crashed into a pole, Jamie grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him toward the walkway. Sam, who seemed to awaken from his trance, shyly looked at Jamie. 

Jamie chuckled quietly at Sam. He whipped Sam playfully with a rolled-up towel. He jogged lightly and called out to him with his Mancunian accent, “Come on, lover boy. We got trainin’ to do.” 

After the fifth day of receiving origami hearts, you decided to take it upon yourself to investigate. Without telling anyone of your plans, not even Keeley or Rebecca who were still convinced it was Sam, you arrived at Nelson Road ten minutes after the call time for the team and coaches. 

You entered from the back of the facility, knowing that you had closed your blinds before you left work yesterday. If there was someone in your office, they wouldn’t see you coming in. As you approached the coaches’ office, the outline of someone leaning across your desk caught your eye. 

Bingo. 

Your heart swelled when you realized who it was. You cleared your throat, “Sam?” 

Sam turned around quickly, staring at you like a deer in headlights. He rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh hey, Y/N! You’re here early.” 

“Yeah, I have a few things to get done today,” you lied, walking over to your desk. “What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, right, um,” he held out the book you let him borrow from behind him, “Just wanted to return this. I was just gonna leave it on your desk, but since you’re already here, here you go.” 

“Oh,” you tried to mask your disappointment as you reached over to grab the book from him. Your fingers grazed his, sending shocks throughout your entire body. You looked down on your desk and found an origami heart on your laptop once more. This time it looked like a different type of paper. It was lightly colored and patterned instead of the usual solid color.  You looked at Sam, “Did you see who left this here?” 

Sam, who was already halfway out the door, shrugged, reaching up to rub the back of his neck again, “Nope. It was there when I got here.” 

Sure, you always denied that the secret admirer was Sam whenever Keeley and Rebecca teased you for it, but you would be a liar if you said you didn’t also secretly hope that it was him. You really liked Sam. Ever since you started working for AFC Richmond, Sam has shown you nothing but kindness. He asks you how you’re doing, and genuinely cares about your response. He pops in every week or so to borrow a book from your personal library. Then, he sits in your office after training when he finishes a book to talk about it with you. That was your favorite part of your job. 

The entire day, you felt dejected and defeated. You’re never going to figure out who was leaving you these little hearts. You didn’t join the team on the pitch or leave your office. At the end of the day, you found yourself staring at a blank Word document. A knock on your wall pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up and found Sam, standing in your doorway with two bags of takeaway in his hands. 

“Ready to talk Normal People?” Sam asked, walking in to take his usual spot across your desk. “I brought yummy food.” 

“Ola’s?”

He nodded, unwrapping the boxes of food to lay out on your desk. “Of course.” 

“Yes!” You cheered, reaching for your hand sanitizer. You offered some to Sam, which he gladly accepted. You pumped some into the palm of his hand and watched in concern as he hissed in pain when he rubbed it into his skin. “You okay?” 

He shook his hands to air dry them, a grimace still on his features. “Yeah, just forgot that I had paper cuts.” 

The admission almost flew over your head. Almost. It wasn’t until Sam muttered the word “Shit,” under his breath did you realize what he said. Sam rarely ever cussed, and when he did, it was because of something big. When you looked at him, he was staring at you with a nervous look on his face. 

“Sam…” you trailed off. 

Sam, taking your tone as a rejection, balled up his fist and bit his knuckles in anticipation. When you couldn’t find the right words, Sam interjected, “Okay, Y/N, before you get mad, hear me out please.”

You continued to stare at him in disbelief, unable to accept that it was him. He pushed his chair back, giving himself more space as he began his explanation. “Alright, so… Yes, it’s me. I have been leaving these little hearts on your desk. I’m sorry I lied to you this morning, but I panicked! I didn’t know you were coming in early. Also, I promise that I was going to tell you eventually. I was just nervous because I don’t want to ruin what we have now.” 

“I like being friends with you,” he started to say, then cringed at his own words, “Okay, let me rephrase that–  I enjoy being your friend, but I do want something more. I really like you, Y/N. I have never really been good at expressing my romantic feelings to people so I figured the greats could do it for me so I started making these little origami hearts with my favorite works and quotes on the back. I was getting quite good at it until I switched the paper I was using. Thus, the paper cuts.” 

“Sam, I-”

“Also, I just want to add, you are absolutely under no obligation to go out with me or anything like that. Unless, of course, you want to. Then, that would be great! I would love to go out with you.” He looked at you, like truly looked at you, for the first time since he began his little ramble. He groaned,  “Christ, you didn’t even ask. Wait– I didn’t even ask you to go out yet.” 

“Sam, please,” You laughed, getting up from your chair to stand in front of him. “I was hoping it was you who was leaving these origami hearts.” 

“Really?” he asked, breathless. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “You are not disappointed that it was me?” 

You backed off a bit as he stood from his seat, walking over to you. You shook your head no, “I was absolutely devastated when you said it wasn’t you who put it on my desk this morning.” 

Before you could say anything else, Sam placed his lips on yours. His hands found the side of your face, holding you at an angle that made it easier for your lips to glide against each other. Your hands lay flat against his chest, feeling the rumbling of his heart easily. As you slipped your tongue into his mouth, a deep groan escaped him, which fueled your actions. After a few moments, you pulled away from him but kept him close. 

Your arms were wrapped around his neck as you looked up at him. “So what do you think? The paper cuts worth it?” 

“Oh, 100%,” Sam easily replied, laughing as he squeezed your hips. He leaned down once again, unable to keep his lips away from yours any longer. 

Needless to say, you didn’t get to talk about Normal People, but neither of you cared.

[gyaruhana]

oh my goodness I think I just turned into the happiest sapphic ever 😝😝 thank you so much for accepting my weird love for player 044 but anywho once you have time and feel like it I desperately need you to write hc's about her w a easily manipulated reader who believes in everything player 044 says and is sooo blindly in love and how a relationship would basically be with my sexy evil old powerful shaman wife 😼

also may I be ' 🐘' anon ? 🙂‍↕️

Seon-nyeo/Player 044 - easily manipulated!reader headcannons

Synopsis: Seon-nyeo with an easily manipulated reader..

A/N: first time writing for this character.. hopefully i serve her right !! also, yes you can be 🐘anon!

Warnings: manipulation, NOT PROOFREAD..

➠ To you, Seon-Nyeo was your savior.

➠ Someone who could protect during these deadly games and you may have immediately started relying on her..

➠ Seon-Nyeo was very much on board with how easily you trust her and didn't waste a second to keep you by her side along with the other few that followed her around

➠ she's ALWAYS saying that it's your fate to stay as her ally and that, if you don't, you'll die here

➠ She's honestly a little surprised by how quickly you just trust her and blindly follow her

➠ (and a little bit concerned)

➠ However, she doesn't let that stop her lies and manipulation because she needs sacrificial pawns for her survival !!

➠ At first, you were more of a pawn that she thought she'd sacrifice if it came down to it but.. she may have changed her mind quite quickly

➠ Especially since you keep trying to give your life away for her and you've barely known her for long

➠ Because of your total trust in her and your willingness to die for her survival, she totally does fall in love with you

➠ Her love might also be because you were actually genuinely nice to her unlike some of the other players. You weren't just pretending to be nice for the sake of appeasing the gods and she liked that a lot.

➠ when she does fall in love with you, she gets more manipulative but, this time, it's to protect you from other players

➠ she knew very well that some of the other players had gladly sacrificed their allies or strangers and she didn't like the idea of that happening to you

she actually isn't really one to fall in love so falling in love with you was something she didn't want to let go of

➠ She's always keeping you by her side from then on and frequently begs the gods above to not let anything happen to you

➠ Every morning, before a new game, she'll immediately tell you the gods blessed the two of you with good luck today so you'll be less nervous about the game you play that day

➠ Also, always partners with you during group games (thank god season 2 didn't have the marble game)

➠ Whenever she's sitting on that one bed above everyone else when the players are voting, most of the time she's looking at you.

➠ Usually you notice her quite quickly and give her a wave which she will return with a smile

➠ If you actually make the decision to not continue the games despite what she tells you, she may be slightly upset about it tbh..

➠ She'll go to you immediately and talk to you about your decision

➠ If it was pure fear that drove your decision to discontinuing the games, she will promise to keep you safe and mention that the gods have promised nothing but fortune for you

➠ She knows she can't really guarantee that and that its a white lie but she really doesn't want the games to end in case she can't find you again

➠ On that note, it does make her a little possessive.

➠ If anyone gets too close to you, she'll slowly walk over and look at who's chatting to you up and down before smirking as if she knows something they don't

➠ She basically stares at them until they leave i'm not gonna lie

➠ Off topic but i could honestly see her wanting to wear some sort of matching jewelry..

➠ like a bracelet or a necklace..

➠ Anyway, back to what I was saying -

➠ she honestly gets jealous easily but she doesn't lash out or anything

➠ like she's not the kind of person to drag you away randomly or do some sort of public display of affection

➠ her aura just scares the person away

➠ I'd also say she doesn't do a lot of PDA

➠ Not because she doesn't like it, she just doesn't do it much

➠ If you ask for it though, then she gladly will.

➠ Overall, manipulative but for the right reasons when you're dating

"Good morning," Seon-Nyeo speaks as she's crouched next to your bed, watching you slowly stretch and come to life. You had gotten used to seeing her by your bedside, smiling at you as she waited for you to finally wake up. It was a wonder how she always woke up before the music blared over the speakers. Her eyes watched you carefully as you sat up and she quickly made herself comfortable on your bed - sitting with her legs crossed. She always enjoyed watching you sleep peacefully. Just like she enjoyed watching your face light up when she told a slight white lie about luck being on your side today. Sure, lying was bad but if it made you more confident, she'd lie a million times. She was glad you trusted her so much. It made her feel rather.. good inside. Once you seemed more awake, she smiled and looked at you directly in the eyes. "The gods have once again promised nothing but good fortune for today so there's no need to worry,"

[heavenlycloud]

i don't like the way he's lookin' at you: 6th member! reader x huh yunjin

request: lessera in states r making me insane so i have a request...... at the lakers game one of the players (or a random dude. whatever you want) is checking out yunjin/being flirty with her so reader obv gets jealous and thr two start acting very homosexual which makes the press and fans go. crazy. thank you :3

cw // VERY MILD nsfw, swearing, jealousy

the one place you fell short as an american was being heavily into sports culture like everyone else had growing up. sunday night football was a huge occasion in your house, even more so when your older cousin began playing professionally. however, you never understood anything about the sport, it simply made no sense to you. most of your family teased you as the odd one out growing up for it because football was their thing. but you were quickly redeemed when you took a liking to basketball.

as a little kid your parents put you into sports just to make sure you were moving enough and getting exercise. they realized by middle school that you actually possessed a talent for it, so they put you in a club league. up until high school you played both club and school teams and indulged in both NBA and WNBA games when they were on tv. otherwise you were watching NCAA tournaments on your laptop, especially in March.

your love for the sport remained strong even after you had to quit playing to become an idol. instead, you kept up with your favorite team of all time: the Los Angeles Lakers. so when you heard that you and your members would be attending a Lakers game in LA during your trip to the US, you almost passed out. you'd only ever been to one other which was with your grandfather as a gift. that night you got to see kobe bryant, your favorite player and sports role model, play. since then it had been a dream to return at least one more if you ever got the chance.

the entire trip you were anticipating sitting in the stands and watching the game, a dream you'd had since childhood. all over social media your fans had been trending compilations of you sharing your love for basketball, especially with your members. the most ironic part of it all was that your members didn't really have an idea about the sport- especially your girlfriend.

time and time again you'd tried to get yunjin to understand basketball even so much as watching games with her and playing them back to explain. however, all she did was smile and nod, cheer when either team got points, or pointed out the most attractive players...mostly the last one which is why you no longer streamed WNBA games in her presence. yet, she was still the first one to steal all of your favorite team's jerseys, hoodies, and sweatpants from your closet.

you paced around your hotel room with nervous jitters as you tried to calm yourself before you all had to leave. yunjin watched in amusement from across the room with a smile on her face as she secretly recorded you. sensing a pair of eyes your way, you looked up and covered your face, "stop teasing me!" she giggled and stopped recording, captioning it simply with your instagram handle.

through your split fingers you noticed her outfit and smirked at the sight. her personalized jersey fell right against her upper thigh and just covering the tiny black shorts she was wearing beneath. she took a step back with a questioning look, "why are you looking at me like that?" you answered with a smug look, "nothin' you just look good n' i like the fit that's all." yunjin turned around and onced herself over in the mirror against the wall, "y/n i don't even have real pants on." you bit your lip and walked over to her, pressing your front against her back. she softly gasped when your lips hit her neck pressing a kiss gently to her skin. between kisses you mumbled, "ion mind. like i said before, you look good ma." she felt your teeth graze her skin and for a moment she started to give into your touch. a deep, breathy moan fell past her lips and you smirked as your fingers bunched up the material of the jersey around the hem.

right as you went to pull it off yunjin pushed you away, "no y/n." you groaned and pleaded, "come on now- lemme make you feel good, my pretty girl." yunjin felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at the pet name but she refused, "no because last time i let you do this before an event we were late." you gave her a look as if you didn't know what she meant and she clarified, "don't pretend you didn't mark my chest so bad they had to change my entire outfit last minute." you let out a laugh and admitted, "n' you still looked fine as hell in that lil' turtleneck." yunjin scoffed and pointed to the bathroom, "go take a shower so we can leave." you tried once more, "you sure you don't wanna join me?" your girlfriend gave you that one look you hated and you huffed, "ugh fineeeee." yunjin hummed and rolled her eyes playfully, shaking her head before deciding on the bottoms she wanted to wear with her top.

the entire ride to the staples center you were trying not to fangirl out too much. when you actually arrived you were in too much shock to even make a scene. your members took pictures and you did the same, making sure to capture every moment you could. when you all were escorted to your seats, you snapped a picture of just you and yunjin leaned over the camera so the upper half of your face was showing. you captioned the picture, "baby's first basketball game 🩵" and posted it right before the game started.

a few minutes into the players warming up on the court, you felt a shift in the air around you....something just felt off. when you looked down towards the end of your section your heart sank in panic until you saw eunchae happily talking to your other members. yunjin nudged you and asked, "what happened?" you shook your head and replied, "thought we left eunchae somewhere, but zuha's head was just blocking her from my view." yunjin laughed lightly and patted your leg, "everything is fine, enjoy this okay?" you nodded and smiled right until you noticed a guy sitting right beside yunjin, staring...hard.

his eyes flitted to her chest and you immediately took your Lakers varsity jacket off, "put this on." the firmness in your voice startled her slightly but she listened nonetheless because she liked wearing your clothes anyways. you turned away from the guy and the second you did, he tapped yunjin and flashed a charming smile, "hey." your girlfriend turned to the young man who looked no older than 24 and smiled back, "hi!"

the young man made conversation with yunjin casually but you could read between the lines to know what he was getting at. the entire time yunjin was catching no signs or signals that this dude was clearly into her. it was times like this that you didn't exactly find her obliviousness endearing. a slight bump to your arm caught your attention as yunjin added, "and this is y/n. she's in the group with me." you gave a tight lipped, forced smile before leaning back into your seat, placing a protective hand on yunjin's thigh. thankfully the game beginning pulled yunjin's attention away from the guy and to you and the middle of the court.

throughout the game you and your members were paying attention to the game, you more than others obviously. yunjin stole glances at her phone, from the corner of her eye she was definitely texting her friends about something totally unrelated which made you laugh. however, every so often the young man beside yunjin just had to tell her something about the game. being the polite and attentive person she always has been, she listened which you knew was giving the guy some kind of message that he was misinterpreting for interest.

you knew there were cameras on your entire group so you maintained composure the best you could. however, on the inside you were just dying for there to be a brief moment where you could make yunjin swap seats with you. into the second quarter, the Clippers called a time out which gave the guy enough time to start talking again. just a moment before yunjin laughed and said, "i don't even know what's happening to be honest." it was a mindless comment but it gave the young man enough confidence to start breaking down the game.

yunjin leaned closer to the guy to hear him and began laughing at what you deemed as stupid jokes. your girlfriend on the other hand, was eating it up. you stuck your tongue against your cheek in annoyance and sakura made a motion with her hand that she often did as a way to tell you to relax. you nodded and leaned your head against her shoulder and she patted the top of your head.

simply hearing the guy speak irked your nerves enough but the fact that yunjin was actually listening to him explaining what you'd tried to explain for years just made you more angry. you noticed the way he leaned towards her, manspread so his knees touched hers, and smiled a little too brightly for your tastes. his eyes lingered on her body when she stood up, and that was your breaking point.

without thinking you placed your hand firmly on yunjin's thigh, squeezing her leg gently. you held onto her hand and played with the wristband you both wore as the game continued on. when she stood up you followed in suit, slipping your arm around her lower back and resting your hand right above her ass. you smiled smugly when she grabbed onto your bicep when she jumped in excitement over a team scoring points. when you both sat back down you slung your arm around her shoulder, letting her play with your hand that rest against her shoulder. the game didn’t even finish before you and yunjin were trending on twitter and tiktok, and you knew it’d stay that way for days on the latter. but that only brought smirk onto your face knowing that people were noticing your behavior, a subtle way of hinting that yunjin was only yours.

when the game ended and you all got back to your rooms you barely let the door close before you were pressing yunjin against the wall. she giggled as your breath tickled her skin and sent shivers down her spine, "what's gotten into you today?" your hands undid the buttons on her jeans easily and you let them fall to the floor while her jersey fell against the very top of her thighs. you picked her up with ease and her legs wrapped around your torso, her arms holding your head against her chest lightly.

yunjin laughed and looked up at you from the hotel bed, her coppery red hair fanned out against the white duvet. she reached up and ran her thumb over your eyebrow, "hmm?" you shrugged and slipped your hands beneath her top, running your hands against her heated skin and letting your fingernails trail lightly behind. yunjin grabbed both of your hands and pulled them from her body before pushing you gently off of her. she scooted back against the pillows and headboard, opening her arms and legs for you to lay against her. she insisted softly, "come here baby."

you sulked and pathetically crawled into her embrace, her arms engulfing your body and ankles locking over your legs. you mumbled into her torso, "ion't like the way he was lookin' at you." yunjin hummed for you to repeat yourself and you clarified, "the fuckass dude next to you. i ain't fuck with that guy." your girlfriend brushed her thumb over your ear and your eyes fluttered shut out of instinct. she asked, "baby, you know i was just being nice." when you let out a dissatisfied sound and turned your face further into her body she laughed.

yunjin asked you seriously, "did it really bother you that much?" you sighed and answered, "i didn't mind that you was talking to someone. i'm not finna tell you who you can and can't talk to. i ain't like that he was lookin' at you up 'n down like a creep...n' you was all interested in him explaining the game too i guess." yunjin told you, "if i'm being honest...i wasn't even listening to what he was saying. there was someone filming us and i didn't want them to think i was rude so i played along. you were the only thing on my mind anyways, i gave you as much attention as i could."

you mumbled with a smirk, "not enough..." yunjin gently pushed you from her embrace and you switched spots with her. your back now against the pillows and headboard while she straddled your lap. she reached for your top and pulled it off with ease. you still had a slight pout on your lips with your face turned away from her in feign annoyance.

yunjin leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your lips, then another one on your cheek, down your jaw, and your neck. she pulled away for a second and said, "is this enough?" you shook your head in refusal and yunjin ran her thumb across your lip with a smile, "remember you said that." just then yunjin pressed another heated kiss to your neck, this time sucking your skin lightly just the way you like it. a smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she heard a whine fall past your lips, "yunnie..."

your girlfriend reached up and grabbed your neck, squeezing it lightly, "what's wrong baby? you wanted my attention, and now you have it. " she proceeded with her ministrations and your head fell back against the pillows behind you. your head swimming with no thoughts except how to explain to your stylist that you'd need high cut shirts and long pants for the remainder of your trip.

[bachissidehoe]

A love triangle with Nagi & Reo

Nagi just never told you how he felt, feelings would be a hassle. Especially when he considers the thought that you may not return them, and then he has to deal with the hassle of losing you in his life. He’s known you since middle school, where you were the reason he studied hard enough to make it into this school. You let him live his lazy life, give him company when he wants it and leave him alone when he would rather keep to himself. He can’t imagine a better life than one with you.

Reo met Nagi and felt an instant connection. Nagi is not only exactly what he’s been looking for as a soccer player to take their high school team to the top, he’s also everything Reo wants in a partner. Someone who can match him in talent, make him think differently about himself and the world, and someone to fight for. All Reo has ever wanted is to be with someone who doesn’t care about his money, his grades- someone who isn’t trying to use him for personal gain. And Nagi is just perfect, he doesn’t need Reo at all, and Reo can’t imagine anything better than that.

You really didn’t want to fall for Reo, he’s every girl’s dream boy. Hot, smart, athletic, and kind (and rich), he checks every box. But literally everyone wants him, he can get anyone he wants, it was so inconvenient when you found yourself falling for him right along with everyone else. But how could you not? When he takes you by the hand to let you sit front and center at his practices and games, when he thanks you for taking such good care of his “treasure” (your best friend Nagi), when he flashes you a gorgeous smile as his eyes sparkle. You feel special every time he talks to you, looks at you, gives you even the slightest bit of attention. You can’t imagine anything better than someone who makes you feel loved like Reo does.

*****

“I have to tell you-”

“I have to tell you something too.” Reo interrupts you, his expression full of urgency yet slightly relieved, assuming he knows exactly what you’re about to tell him.

Truthfully, you decided it’s finally time to confess to him, it’s been long enough. He should at least know, even if he does reject you.

“Okay, you go.” You smile, urging him to go first. Your heart races, hoping he’ll return your feelings before you even have to deal with the embarrassment of confessing.

“I- I really like Nagi.” Reo says confidently. He’s nervous, but he stands tall. He shouldn’t feel so nervous about feelings like this, he always gets what he wants, after all.

“I- you-” You stutter, the thoughts flooding your brain faster than you can think of a proper response. It makes so much sense, Reo’s “treasure”, the way he’s expressed wanting to take care of Nagi, how he’s started showing up to drive him to school, how he always tries to get alone time with him. It’s so obvious, and you’ve been hogging him away from Nagi, selfishly acting on your feelings instead of trying to help Nagi explore his own.

“Oh, you’re surprised? I thought I was being too obvious.” Reo chuckles.

“No! It makes sense! I just- um-” You pause, trying to find a way to get through the conversation without crying.

“She wanted to tell you that she likes you.”

A familiar voice interrupts the conversation, where you turn to see your snowy-haired best friend poking his head into the empty classroom. Clearly, he was looking for the two of you, showing up at perhaps the worst time.

“Nagi! No- I don’t- um, Reo was just saying-” You try to save it, try to make this less embarrassing, but all you can do is fight back tears.

“Yeah, he was saying he likes me. I know he does.” Nagi pulls his bag straps tight against his shoulders, standing up tall for once. It’s easy to forget how damn tall he is when he’s always slouching. “But I know you like him, and I like you, and that’s all a hassle, so I left it alone.” He sighs.

“Wait-” Reo starts, processing the information. “You like her, she likes me, and I like you? Oh boy.” He scratches behind his head. “Is that what you were going to tell me, y/n?”

You only nod, still trying to process that Nagi basically confessed to you just now. How could you not have seen it?

You look at Nagi, who looks at Reo, who looks at you. Suddenly, Nagi looks different to you, he’s honestly beautiful. You can’t imagine your life without him, and watching him discover a recent passion has been an amazing journey. Nagi looks at Reo, seeing someone who’s helped him grow into a new person, a person he’s starting to like much more than his old self. A life with Reo in it sounds amazing. And Reo looks at you, seeing a beautiful girl who has supported him every day, giggling and laughing with him and encouraging him to chase his dreams. You haven’t used him for a single thing, thinking only of his happiness.

The three of you stand in a triangle as you look between each other. And you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah.” You smile. “I like you too Nagi. And I do like you, Reo.” You shrug.

“I do like you y/n. And of course, Nagi.” Reo smiles.

“I like you y/n. And I think I do like you too, Reo.” Nagi cracks a light smile.

[peachhcs]

https://www.tumblr.com/peachhcs/768160196490117120/need-to-know-if-sammy-ever-finds-out-about-what

lowkey want sammy to go off and kevin and break up with him and make sure he deletes the video

part 4! keep in mind that in the other wonder years fics + the fics before will and samy get together that samy genuinely doesn’t know how she feel and doesn’t really figure it out until her and will go to her senior prom together — just to clear up if there’s any confusion about that!

i also totally made this way too long at 2.3k words OOPS but enjoy!! lowkey also gave kevin a small redemption arc bc it just kind of came out as i was writing lmao

au masterlist | previous part

the things will told samy replayed in her mind on a loop like a broken record. she tossed and turned all night thinking about how kevin literally punched one of her best friends all because will tried standing up for her when kevin's friends started saying shitty things. she had an idea of what was being said because she's heard it a few times before in passing and rumors circulating around the school. usually, those things would just roll off her back, mainly because her brothers taught her to not let that type of thing mess with you too much. 

and that's what samy did. she always thought tyler was a gross person anyway because of how he was always trying to hook up with a new girl each weekend. the thing that was bugging samy the most was kevin and will getting into a fight over her. their relationship had been a bit tense the past month. kevin kept saying things and samy kept trying to ignore him and denying all of it, but now she wasn't so sure anymore after finding out him and will fought about the one thing that's been making her and kevin's relationship so strained. 

"bye guys!" samy exclaimed as she walked the guys out. all of them plus marcie and kevin just finished their semi-bi-weekly friday moving night. it was kevin's first time being invited after him and samy had been talking for awhile. she was excited for him to start bonding with the people she was so close with. 

once everyone was out of sight, samy trailed back into the living room where kevin was. the boy smiled a bit, opening his arm up as samy sat back down next to him. the warmth of the blankets returned after standing in the doorway for so long. 

"so, what did you think?" she asked nervous but excitedly. 

"they were cool," kevin nodded. 

"i think they liked you, too. hopefully we can all hang out again soon, or you can come with me to some of their games," the youngest hughes grinned as she squeezed kevin's arm a bit tighter. 

"yeah, for sure. you know, i had no idea you and will grew up together," the boy hummed, his tone a bit too light to pick up on any envy yet. 

"oh, yeah. we go way back. i've known will since we were babies. he's one of my best friends now," samy grinned and she missed the way kevin's jaw clenched listening to her say that. 

"yeah, you two are really close," this time the envy did slip out through his tone. samy caught wind of it and snapped her gaze in his direction. 

"what? are you jealous or something?" she laughed a bit, tugging on his arm and still trying to find amusement in it. 

"should i be?" his green eyes pierced into her skin and samy slowly understood he was being serious. she dropped his arm. 

"no? we've been best friends our whole lives. i've never even seen him that way," the soccer player couldn't even begin to think of will as something other than a friend and she was confused on where this idea was coming from. 

"you better tell him and everyone else that," kevin muttered. 

"oh, come on, kev. our friends have been teasing us about this since they met us. it's just a joke. we've never even done anything. he's like a brother to me," samy continued laughing in hopes to ease up some of the tension building. although, she did fail to mention how her and will kissed in her bathroom back in april and how something in her hadn't been the same since. 

"i'm just saying, hughes. guys can tell and guys can feel when there's other feelings going on," with that, kevin looked at his phone and stood up. "i gotta get going anyway. mom wants me back home." 

samy didn't have anything else to say. the thoughts in her mind were confusing her along with her and will's kiss from april and then again at the beginning of the school year. those were all just for fun though, right? she made it clear she was joking and will did too. it wasn't even serious. 

"see you later," kevin mumbled before leaving out of the same door everyone else left from ten minutes ago. 

since then, samy and kevin kept getting in little tiffs about what was going on between her and will. something would happen that would set the brunette off and he'd bring it up after the fact. samy would just deny it all and tell him he was overthinking it—because it was true. right? there was nothing going on between her and will. 

there never would be. 

but then there was homecoming. the night samy and kevin went public with their new relationship and the night samy started wondering if things really were changing. 

she kept noticing the way will took every chance he got to look at her. his eyes were quite literally glued to her and it sent a funny, but good feeling through samy's chest. she kind of liked the way he was looking at her. and then when the guys jumped in for a few photos, she felt the tight grip will had on her waist and how close he was to her and she also saw the way kevin looked like he wanted to snap will's head off from where he stood off to the side. 

and that's when samy started wondering if there was something more there and maybe kevin was right. 

but he couldn't be. she didn't like will. he didn't like her. they were friends. nothing more, nothing less. 

ryan mentioned something to her that night after she got back. they didn't really talk about it, but he hinted something and she understood what he was trying to say. still though, samy chose to firmly believe that there was nothing going on between her and will. 

the youngest hughes was at kevin's house the next day. she knocked a good three times on his front door and then crossed her arms waiting for him to come out. there were heavy footsteps before the door swung open. kevin paused in the entryway, surprised to see samy on his porch.

"oh, hey. i didn't know you were coming over," he smiled a bit, but his smile disappeared when she didn't reciprocate it. 

"we need to talk."

kevin glanced around like there were other people around, but when he only saw samy, he slowly shut his door and stepped onto the porch with her. 

"okay," the two sat down on the bench his mom had outside. samy knew kevin probably had an idea about what she was gonna say, so she decided to just rip the bandaid off and stop beating around the bush.

"i know you punched will the other night at the game," she began. 

the boy's eyes narrowed and then he jumped up like he was gonna take another swing, "did he tell you that? i'm gonna fucking—"

samy grabbed his arm to bring him back to reality, "i was gonna find out sooner or later, kevin. you really thought hiding that from me was gonna work?" she sneered. 

"who the fuck told you?" he snapped back. 

"why does it even matter who told me? why the fuck did you punch him? if you didn't want him standing up for me, you should've done it first," the girl snapped right back at him. kevin's face twisted.

"well in case you wanted to know, he did confirm he liked you because he'd fuck you too if he had the chance," the brunette grumbled and hearing that made samy's insides twist but not in a bad way. 

"so what? that gave you the excuse to punch him?" 

"it confirmed what i've known all along and what you've kept denying since we got together," the boy pulled his arm away. 

"you could've seriously hurt him, kevin. i don't care how you feel, you don't fucking punch someone because they aren't making you happy. would you punch me?" the soccer player stood up so they were face to face. 

"he punched me back just so you know. he actually tackled me to the ground if that makes any difference."

"why are you so obsessed with this? why not just break up with me if you think i like him?" they were going in circles at this point. 

"because i wanna keep thinking that i'm wrong and there's nothing between you two. i wanna believe you like me. you keep fucking denying it so i'm choosing to believe you, but every time i'm around you guys i'm told otherwise. why can't you just fucking admit it to yourself, samy? why can't you admit to me that you like him?" now kevin was just pleading for some honesty and as much as samy was supposed to hate him right now, his words stung. 

"because i don't like him! i've never liked him!" she yelled at him. 

"there it is again. you're lying. i know you're lying. i can see it in your eyes. your tell is that you get defensive when you're lying," kevin pointed his finger right in her face which she pushed away. 

"well maybe it's because he's my best friend and has been my best friend since we were kids and i'm just so terrified to lose that! and maybe i just kept making myself belief he didn't like me because then it would save all of us so much hurt in the long run because dating your best friend always goes bad. have you ever liked someone that's so close to you that it just scares you more than anything because you don't wanna do anything that will put you into a position to lose them? i like you, kevin. that was never fake. i think it just..i just tried pushing away other feelings too in the process and it didn't end well," everything all just spilled out and samy dropped back down to the bench while hiding her face in her hands. 

a beat of silence passed between the two before kevin sunk back onto the bench next to her. he hesitated for a second, wondering if it would be the right movie, but ultimately placing his hand on her back. 

"shit, i'm sorry. i-i didn't mean to.." 

"no, i'm sorry. i shouldn't have snapped. i shouldn't have punched will. i shouldn't have done a lot of things," kevin shook his head. "if the feelings were really real, then hurting one another wouldn't be a question. i know it's scary, but i don't think you guys would put one another into a position to lose the other." 

"i don't even really know how i feel, but all i know is that i don't wanna lose will just because of some stupid feelings. i also don't wanna lose you either, but i just don't think we work in a relationship. i think i just need to be by myself before i even think about a serious relationship," she met the boy's gaze. it was sad, but he slowly nodded. 

"i get it, really. friend then?" the boy wondered and samy nodded. she hugged his side. 

"just a few things. don't punch my friends ever again, okay? and can you please delete that video?" 

"yes and yes. i promise i won't. i'm sorry i did," kevin sighed as he pulled his phone out so samy could watch him delete the video.

"i'm not the one who needs to hear that apology," she watched as he found it in his camera roll and pressed delete and then went to recently deleted to permanently delete. 

"yeah, i know. i doubt will would wanna hear me out though," kevin and samy exchanged a glance. 

"if i talk to him, do you promise to apologize to him?" the girl asked and kevin nodded. 

—

kevin caught will a few days later at a community soccer game samy was playing in with her club team. the blonde caught kevin coming towards them, his face twisting a bit but the brunette raised his arms as a surrender.

"i'm not here to punch you again if that's what you're wondering," the brunette mumbled.

"if you're here to start anything you better turn back around right now," ryan cut in because he did not want to deal with another fight. 

"i'm not, i swear. i was hoping will and i could talk?" kevin looked over at the blonde who stared at him for a good five seconds before slowly nodding.

"yeah, sure," will said and the two walked a bit out of earshot. 

"first, i wanna say i'm sorry for punching you. it was uncalled for and i shouldn't have done that, so i'm sorry. second, the video is completely gone, so you don't have to worry about that anymore," kevin explained and apologized. 

"i guess i shouldn't have punched back either," will nodded.

"can we just call it even? samy and i aren't together anymore so you don't have to worry about that anymore," the brunette stared at their shoes. 

"i'm sorry you guys broke up," the hockey player rocked on his heels and kevin just shrugged. 

"it's whatever. we're still friends and it's not weird or anything. we're good though?" kevin held his hand out as a truce. will stared at it before shaking it and the boys patted one another's backs.

"sorry again, will. thanks for talking," the blonde nodded and the two finally parted ways. will went back over to ryan and gabe who were curiously listening in. 

"what was that about? gabe wondered. 

"just..apologizing for real. i guess him and samy really did breakup," will explained and he watched his friends' gazes widen in surprise.

"oh shit. i didn't think she was actually serious," ryan mumbled.

"yeah, i guess. at least we don't have to deal with him anymore," the blonde shrugged a bit.

they were right though. kevin wasn't an issue for the rest of the year which meant samy and will were left to figure out what really was going on between them and how long samy could keep denying the feelings she had anytime her best friend was around.

[catsidhesilvie]

Ahhhhhhh Zilvra got big character development tonight in session!!

Long Zilvra lore and motivation musings!

She finally met her patron, after attempting to touch a shrine that granted visions to answer your most burning question/worry. Zilvra forced everyone else to go before her because she was nervous and afraid of what she might see, only for a wild fox to scurry in just in time and grab her skirt hem to stop her. (The question, by the way, would have been either "Who was it who kidnapped me to the feywilds in the first place" or "What happens when I regain my memory?")

Her patron then materializes and says that he has been pleased with her service and wishes to offer her a choice to stop her from digging around in her history -- he could either consider the contract fulfilled, take back the powers he granted, and and restore her memory (as was originally promised) now........ OR, extend the contract, since his last warlock didn't work out all that well and Zilvra was particularly useful. If she agreed to remain his for the occasional errand, he promised her all kinds of power and even to help with her friends who died (whose players are currently playing other characters...... hmmmmm something doesn't add up but Zilvra wouldn't necessarily know that), but asked in exchange that she handle the last remaining evil druid left in the woods. Then, he said he wished for her to rejoin him in the feywilds and serve him from there.

Her whooooole thing was that she wanted to escape the feywilds! That's what started her whole adventure in this game. She made the deal with this patron to get out, getting her warlock powers essentially just to complete his mission since she wouldn't have her memory of her druidic powers. The thought of her going back willingly would be totally against her motivations since the start............... but. He promised even more power, which would be useful (seeing as the party is about to fight a dragon), and said that she might like it in the feywilds more if she was as strong as she would be with a resealed pact -- that she could control some of the feywilds herself, even, to shape her own desires into reality.

It wouldn't have tempted her initially, because the whole ordeal has made her highly value freedom. Now, though, having learned of her past from a fellow surface drow in town who chanced to recognize her, she knows that she doesn't have much to return to post-adventure. That makes her slow down and actually consider the offer.

Her entire goal since level 1 was to escape the feywilds and complete her patron's task so that she could be done with it all and return to her old life and an important task she had been working on - she couldn't remember what it was, but that it was her duty. Thanks to this chance encounter with the other drow, she learned what that duty was.

She had been a druid, albiet a Circle of Spores druid -- which still placed her as "other" in her drow village in the underdark. When their home had been included in an attack by mindflayers, Zilvra had been sent to the surface to try to fetch assistance, since mindflayers were too powerful a foe for the drow alone. Being a druid, Zilvra was deemed most likely to be able to find surface allies. Instead, she vanished, and the help she was supposed to bring never arrived.

She had been trapped in the feywild, or otherwise unaccounted for, for 200 years. Now, her former home in the Underdark was in ruins -- the drow had succeeded in their fight against the mindflayers without her, but not before their town was leveled. The drow the party met explained that the matron of their house and other members of their town had recently returned to rebuild, but others had, like him, scattered to the wind, so she was free to do as she wished.

Zilvra's thirst for freedom turned into a curse of options. >:)

Where would Zilvra go, when this is all over? Her cleric friend has other friends and a place to return home to. Her wizard friend is only part of the party to finish the business of their deceased friend, and also has a home far away. The new barbarian in the party is still mildly standoffish and seems to be a mercenary only helping them for the coin. She does care for Mab, but even Mab had chosen to join the party for a particular goal -- to avenge his clan and retake his former home in the mountains from the dragon. Zilvra couldn't just invite herself to stay with any of them, and she wasn't sure that she wanted to return to the underdark as a deserter, or worse, a failure.

If she regained her druidic powers and memory, perhaps she could join a local circle and help to protect the forests.... if she could find a group that would accept her as a drow. Her warlock powers had granted her the ability to appear as a wood elf (or anyone else) at will, so getting by on the surface would be a fair bit more difficult if she only had her own humanoid face.

There was also the building anxiety of what she would be like with her memory restored -- was she still her? Did she think and act the same way? Would she still care for the friends she's made (the only ones she's ever known, given the technicalities)?

Her patron being fey, she was limited in what questions she could ask without giving offense, but he did elaborate that her tasks, should she decide to stay his, would primarily be related to protecting the wood from humans and others who would try to over-hunt or otherwise over-harvest the forest sacred to the fey -- something that, as a former druid, she assumes that she would be totally in line with.

Swearing her servitude to her patron indefinitely by doing what she would already be drawn to doing in exchange for purpose, power, and maybe even a chance to save her lost friends.... it suddenly became far more tempting than she could have considered.

SO now, two questions remain:

Can she trust her patron?

And

what does she want in the end?

Initially, Zilvra was unfalteringly loyal to and completely trusting of her patron, because she remembered that SHE had agreed to the deal to escape the feywilds. She trusted her own judgement, and his by extension. She initially kept her pact a secret, was focused on her mission above all else, and simply joined the party to try and increase the strength at her disposal with which to complete her patron's unknown mission -- but as time passed, she slowly started to see things didn't add up. Finding that she was a druid now cursed to make flowers wither was like a twisting knife, a cruel joke. Was it from her patron? Was it from another fey? Her patron being silent after her friends died and she had thought she'd completed her patron's mission also made her frustrated and wary, and the question of WHY she needed to have her memories suppressed continued to fester.

Meeting her patron now and having it confirmed from his own mouth that HE didn't want her to remember anything to keep her useful to him caused her suspicion to compound. For him to not want her to remember, to go so far as to travel into the material plane to stop her moments before touching something that would give her an answer to a question she hadn't stated, there must be something he has her doing that would go against her true self -- she just can't imagine what, unless she either wouldn't have been willing to work with him specifically, or if she did have something else important out there waiting for her. There's also the possibility that I haven't had her think of yet where she could have been a Talos-following druid herself -- not all druids are good druids! And oh man that would be a twist, having her hunt down and murder the druids that she had been seeking :O

Ultimately, she made a smaller bargain with him: she continues to serve him for now, and will defeat the last remaining evil druid in the area. The party will use her warlock powers as well to try and make progress in defeating this dragon. In one month, her patron will return with the same offer, and she will decide whether to give up all her warlock powers in exchange for her memory, and possibly returned druidic powers.... or, she will choose to sign a permanent contract in exchange for greater powers and assistance with her deceased friends, and eventually return to the feywilds with her patron.

Knowing the way time works in the feywilds, she warns the party she doesn't know if they will see him in a few days or a few years -- but that she has bought time. If it seems that they won't be able to defeat the dragon that terrorizes the area on their own, she could take that power to help.

I think, character-wise, it makes the most sense for Zilvra to reject her patron's offer. While she is tempted by her friends being somehow savable from death, the cleric of the party pointed out to her that it sounded fishy, so a seed of doubt exists to compete with her guilt over their deaths coming from a fight for her personal quest.

She will always be curious about her past, and she wanted to leave the feywilds. I think if the party gives her any indication that they will support her when she gets her memories back, or gives any idea of where she could go after this fight is over, she will choose to regain her memories, hoping that the experiences which she has gone through with them will stay with her and prevent her from being aggressive to them as non-drow.

That said, I don't anticipate that the DM will be swapping her class just before the final battle.... so I'd imagine that she won't hear from her patron again until at least just before the final confrontation with the dragon, and she might be able to ask to keep the powers for just one more fight.

AND there is always the chance that the DM is tricky and makes it so Zilvra doesn't reallly get the choice -- either she thinks she has to take the power to succeed, or she learns more about her past and does NOT jive with it.

Ofc then there is the bit where I decided to make Zilvra's downtime activity for the next few days as they await the Festival of the Moon researching local druidic groups and drow druids, sneakily, to see if she can discover any bit of history about herself from the surface before she was kidnapped by fey. If her patron catches her, that could be a whole ordeal bahaha.

I'm down for anything but ahh this is so fun :D

[ashbrat488]

Foul Play - Chapter 22

Millicent clung nervously to Henry's hand as they entered his parents' house. Reluctantly, she handed over her coat. "Don't be nervous, Shortcake," he whispered, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before leading her into the kitchen. The room fell silent as they entered.

"Everyone, this is Millicent... my girlfriend," Henry announced with a wide grin, emphasizing the word 'girlfriend.' Millicent smiled back, her nervousness easing as she playfully nudged his shoulder.

His mother, Marianne, stepped forward to introduce herself first. "I'm Marianne, and this is my husband, Colin." She motioned to Henry's father on her right, and with a warm smile, pulled Millicent into a hug before she could react, leaving her feeling slightly awkward. Henry sighed and intervened, "Mama, personal space, please."

"It's okay," Millicent mumbled, allowing Marianne's arm around her shoulders as she turned toward the rest of the family. "And these are Henry's older brothers, Piers, Nik, and Simon, and their wives."

Millicent timidly raised her hand in greeting as Henry gently moved her away from his mother's enthusiastic embrace. "You didn't tell me your family was so big, Henry..."

"I didn't want to scare you away before you even got here," he admitted with a teasing chuckle.

"Sneaky," she replied, a playful gleam in her eyes, as Henry chuckled and kissed her temple before offering her a seat at the table and sitting beside her.

Glancing around the table, Millicent noticed that most of Henry's family members were still watching her. She took a sip of her water as dishes were passed around. "Let me guess, Henry has never brought a girl home before?"

Laughter erupted around the table, confirming her suspicion, and she saw Henry blush slightly. Colin spoke up once the laughter subsided, "What's a pretty girl like you doing with Henry to begin with?"

"Dad..." Henry groaned, but Millicent found his father's curiosity endearing.

"He wore me down, I guess." She nudged his shoulder teasingly as he chuckled.

"You're American? What's the story there?" Colin inquired next as Henry sighed annoyed beside her.

"It's fine," she reassured, and then proceeded to share her story. "My mother was American. She did a semester over here, slept with my dad, and found out she was pregnant when she returned home. I met my dad when I was 16 through one of those DNA tests. When my mom passed away, he asked if I wanted to move here with him, and he could get me into college. So, I accepted."

"And what is your degree?" Colin inquired.

"I want to be a lawyer," Millicent answered, pausing to consider the terminology. "Or, I guess you call it a solicitor here? Or a barrister? I haven't chosen my path yet. Although I'm generally shy, there's something exciting about potentially pleading your case in court."

Colin chuckled; his eyes filled with pride. "A solicitor. That's great. It was a pain trying to get Henry to go to college and obtain a degree. I'm still hoping that he leaves his childish dream of being a rugby player behind and becomes a solicitor too."

"Dad..." Henry groaned again, and Millicent saw him hang his head down, pushing food around his plate.

She reached out and rested her hand on his thigh, giving it a supportive squeeze. "Well, he's really great, and I believe in him."

Marianne smiled warmly as Henry lifted his head to smile at Millicent. "You guys are cute."

"Yeah, what did you do to get this girl, Henry?" His oldest brother, Piers, teased, and Henry shrugged modestly.

"Just lucky, I guess."

"At least you'll have a level-headed woman at your side when you realize it's time to hang up your dream and get an adult job," Colin chimed in, grinning.

"Can we please talk about something else, please?" Henry requested, his tone becoming more serious as Colin sighed and everyone broke off into smaller conversations.

Millicent discreetly took Henry's hand under the table, making him look at her. She smiled and leaned closer, whispering softly in his ear, "I'm sorry about them. I believe in you."

"Thank you, Milly," he replied softly, nuzzling her nose with his before planting a sweet kiss on her lips and returning to his meal.

***

"So, I'm really the first girlfriend, huh?" Millicent asked Marianne as the two women worked together to clean up the kitchen, while the men retreated to the lounge for drinks and conversation.

Marianne chuckled, and one of Henry's sisters-in-law chimed in, "First girlfriend, no. First girl he brought home, yes."

Millicent laughed in agreement, nodding as she dried some plates. "Right. Well, thank you for having me. I'm not used to having such a large family around. I'm an only child, and it was just my mom and me. And now it's just my dad and me."

"You're welcome here anytime, sweetheart," Marianne said warmly, patting Millicent on the shoulder reassuringly. "I can see how smitten Henry is with you."

"I appreciate that. Thank you, Mrs. Cavill."

"Marianne is fine, dear."

"Thank you, Marianne," Millicent replied, her cheeks tinged with a slight blush.

***

Millicent turned to Henry as he began to drive her home. "I like your family. Though they're quite loud."

Henry laughed, his hand resting on her thigh. "Yeah, maybe I should have warned you. I didn't want to scare you away. Hopefully, I still haven't?"

"You haven't," she replied, leaning to rest her head on his arm. "In fact, I already told my dad that I'll be spending the night with you at your apartment... if that's okay?"

"Really?" Henry turned to her with a wide grin, and she nodded. "You want to spend the night with me?"

"I do."

Chapter 23

Taglist: @kingliam2019

[luxerians]

The Last Mask (18.1)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 18.1 - Humanity [SFW]

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 19

PREV : Chapter 17.1

NSFW ver. : Chapter 18.2

[Hwang In-ho’s Flashback…]

It was during the first few minutes of the Seven-Legged Hexathlon when In-ho stood quietly beside player 423. Her brows furrowed slightly, her lips pressed together in concentration. She was focused. Almost too focused on the first two teams playing Tuho. He noticed the way her eyes tracked every throw, every movement as if she was absorbing every detail.

She wasn’t just watching; she was analyzing, preparing, worrying.

He had seen that kind of look before. People who tried to predict every outcome, tried to control what little they could in an unpredictable situation. He knew it well because he was the overseer of these games. He had watched and noticed everything throughout his times as the Front Man. And yet, something about the way she did it made him pause.

“Don’t be nervous. I’m sure you’ll do fine,” he said, stepping closer.

She turned to look at him, startled for a brief moment. He held her gaze and gave her a small, confident smile. “You said you did it often. I’m certain you’ve got skills.”

Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to respond, but she hesitated. Instead, she lowered her gaze, something shifting in her expression.

“That was years ago. Now…”

Her voice trailed off, her eyes turning distant. Whatever she was thinking about, it wasn’t the game in front of her anymore. It was something else. Something heavier. In-ho recognized that kind of look, too. It was the look of someone recalling a nightmare without meaning to. He knew because he tended to do it too.

He stared at her intently, curiosity creeping in. What was she hiding? He knew loss when he saw it, knew the weight of burdens unspoken.

Out of nowhere, she shook her head, shaking away whatever thoughts that had taken hold of her. “My arms sometimes tremble uncontrollably. What if it messes up my aim?”

That’s when an idea sprang to his mind. An opportunity to lower her guard and manipulate her further. Without hesitation, In-ho responded, “Then I’ll hold your hands.”

It still felt odd, though. Manipulation or not, he wasn’t the kind of man who offered comfort. The Front Man wouldn’t care. The cold, detached persona he had built over years of isolation wouldn’t have said anything at all.

And yet, here he was, trying for someone he had only known for a short time.

Manipulation or not, maybe it was because she reminded him of something – of warmth, of his past self he had buried. Or maybe it was simply because he thought he was in control of everything. Yes, he is doing this to manipulate her, he convinced himself.

After completing the Seven-Legged Hexathlon, the group returned to the dormitory. In-ho, playing his part, apologized for failing the Spinning Top multiple times – even though he had done so intentionally. He was expecting little reaction, maybe even some teasing, but instead, you smiled warmly at him.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Everyone has moments like that, but you didn’t give up, and that’s what mattered.”

For a moment, In-ho just stared at you, caught off guard once again.

Your words always seemed to slip through his defenses, seeping into places he had long sealed off. It was unnerving how easily you could disarm him, how your warmth found cracks in the cold exterior he had spent years perfecting. It felt as if you had known him far longer than just these past few days. As if you saw through him. Not just the man he pretended to be, but the one he had buried beneath layers of control and calculation.

His eyes softened before he could stop them, and he smiled. Was it real? He wasn’t sure. He had been pretending for so long that even he couldn’t always tell.

Then, that moment came.

The smile on your lips turned fake. That’s when you told them. About your parents, about the weight of your family situation, and about the staggering 350 million won debt that had pulled you into this place.

In-ho watched you closely, reading every small detail.

The way you kept faking a smile, the way you tried to make it sound like everything was fine. But he saw the strain beneath it, the exhaustion of someone carrying far too much for far too long.

And something inside him tightened.

He knew that look all too well. The quiet acceptance of an unfair fate. He had worn it himself, once.

For the first time, his reaction wasn’t calculated. He simply watched you, feeling something unfamiliar creep into his chest. A quiet ache. A reluctant understanding.

And perhaps, just for a moment, he hated that he cared.

Not only that, but he felt an anger so deep it surprised him. The thought of anyone threatening you, forcing you into this situation, made his blood simmer with quiet rage. The image of you struggling under the weight of someone else’s cruelty refused to leave his mind.

These men had taken advantage of you, had pushed you into a corner with no way out. And now, standing here, watching you mask your pain with that forced smile, he knew one thing for certain.

Once these games are over, he would find them.

Soon enough, In-ho saw the full extent of your kindness. He watched the way you treated player 222. Of course, everyone who learned of her condition was gentle with her, but the way you cared for her was different. Softer, warmer, motherly and deeply sincere.

What he didn’t realize yet was how much he liked seeing that kindness spread from you to everyone else, including him.

He didn’t yet understand that he was drawn to you the way the tide is drawn to the moon. Inevitably, irresistibly, without question.

Then came the moment when everyone in the group began introducing themselves.

“My name is [Your Full Name],” you said next, offering a small smile. “I’ve never checked what it means.”

From the corner of his eye, In-ho noticed the others nodding in acknowledgment, but his focus stayed on you. He smiled to himself, content. Now he had your name.

Before joining the game as a spy, he hadn’t bothered learning the players’ names. Why would he? Ninety-nine percent of them wouldn’t make it to the end.

Now, however, knowing your name felt like something worth keeping.

“It sounds perfect for you. Beautiful, even,” he said.

Your reaction was immediate. Your head dipped, eyes lowering as if his words had caught you off guard. There was a flicker of shyness, an innocence to the way you absorbed his compliment. He stared at you quietly, taking in that moment before finally introducing himself.

“I’m Oh Young-il.”

“Young-il?” Player 390, whose name was Jung-bae, blinked.

“Yes,” In-ho gestured toward his player number. “Young-il sounds like ‘zero one,’ and that’s my number. Easy to remember.”

Player 388, Dae-ho, looked at him with amazement. “Oh, that’s true! Your name is your number!”

“What a coincidence,” you remarked, smiling. “Maybe the game makers noticed the connection and assigned you as 001 on purpose.”

In-ho’s smile widened in amusement, finding your comment inwardly hilarious. “Who knows? It does feel a little too perfect.”

***

“[Your name].”

In-ho’s head turned instinctively. Gi-hun had approached and now stood beside you on the staircase. It was right after the announcement of how much each surviving player would receive if the majority voted for X.

He didn’t even know why he reacted like that – instinctive and swift. It wasn’t even his real name, but hearing yours always seemed to pull his attention.

Gi-hun stared at you, his expression solemn.

“If the vote goes our way and we leave this game, memorize my phone number,” he said. “Contact me. I want to help you and your situation.”

Something dark curled in In-ho’s chest. There it is. He barely held back a scoff. That oh-so-heroic self. Trying to impress her that much, Gi-hun?

But Gi-hun had no idea what was running through In-ho’s mind. He kept going.

“I still have billions of won left. More than enough to help your family. If you’re more comfortable, we can arrange to meet somewhere. Maybe at a park or a subway station.”

Pathetic.

Gi-hun was dangling a solution in front of you, playing the role of savior like he always did. But what irritated In-ho more was your reaction. You looked amazed. Grateful, even. The appreciation in your eyes, the warmth in your voice as you responded, “Thank you. That would mean a lot.”

In-ho’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. His gaze flickered between you both, the sight of it making his stomach churn. The idea of you meeting Gi-hun outside this game, of continuing this connection, of sharing moments beyond these walls. It unsettled him in a way he didn’t want to acknowledge.

If the majority voted X, you and Gi-hun would meet again. You’d talk, you’d share stories, you’d smile at him the way you sometimes smiled at In-ho now. And that displeased him more than it should have.

More than it ever should have.

Then In-ho spoke up, “I’d like to help as well.”

You turned to him swiftly, wide-eyed in astonishment. In-ho instinctively smiled, satisfied that your attention was back where it belonged – on him.

He added with a reassuring tone, “Whether it’s protection or financial support, I’ll do whatever I can. If we leave this place, let’s set up a meeting as well.”

Your cheeks tinged with a faint crimson before you bowed your head in gratitude. “Thank you so much, you two.”

In-ho nodded, but just as he looked up, his gaze met Gi-hun’s. The younger man was frowning at him. The two locked eyes, exchanging a silent but charged stare. Then, Gi-hun’s gaze flickered to the O patch on In-ho’s chest.

Oh? Is he doubting me because I voted to stay last time?

In-ho kept his voice even as he addressed Gi-hun directly. “Don’t worry. I want to stop here too.”

Gi-hun’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but something about his expression remained unreadable. In-ho thought that was the end of it. But then Gi-hun nodded and spoke again.

“Ah, right. You have a wife waiting for you at the hospital.”

Something snapped in In-ho. His jaw clenched, his body tensed, every nerve in his body suddenly alert. He didn’t need to glance at you to know that Gi-hun’s words hit you like a punch to the chest. He could feel the weight of your stunned silence, the realization crashing over you like a tidal wave.

He knew exactly what must be running through your mind. After all, there was something between you two. So subtle, yet undeniably alive. You and he had been moving toward something, slow and inevitable, changing the way he saw the world – changing him. You had altered something in his very chemistry, and he knew you felt it too.

But now?

Now you knew he was married. Or in your head at that moment, is married.

He didn’t need to ask to understand the kind of person you were. You were the type to respect boundaries, to step back the moment you realized there was a line you shouldn’t cross. You would let go, even if it hurt you, because you were that kind and selfless. And that realization made his stomach twist.

Sure, he should have told you. He should have explained everything. About his wife, about what had happened. But he had wanted to tell you on his own terms, when you were alone, when he had control over how the truth was revealed.

But Gi-hun had taken that choice away from him.

It wasn’t an accident. It was too perfectly timed, too deliberate. In-ho’s mind reeled. Could it be that Gi-hun had noticed? Had he seen something between you two?

Does he like you too?

Is he trying to put an end to whatever was growing between us?

His fists curled at his sides as he forced himself to keep his face neutral. But the damage had already been done. And worst of all, now you knew.

After the majority of players voted to stay in the games, In-ho’s eyes subconsciously searched for you. When he found you lying in bed, he gravitated toward you without thinking. But he wasn’t the only one. Dae-ho and Jun-hee were also approaching.

His gaze flickered to Gi-hun. There he stood, frozen in the middle of the X zone, drowning in despair over the result, over the players’ greed. In-ho should have enjoyed the sight, should have taken satisfaction in watching Gi-hun’s naive ideals crumble. This vote had proved In-ho right. These players weren’t victims. They had chosen to stay.

Yet, instead of smirking at Gi-hun’s misery, In-ho kept walking toward you.

When he reached your bed, he realized you were trying to sleep. It was obvious. You were disappointed too.

Dae-ho sighed beside him. “I’m disappointed too. Jung-bae voting for O? I didn’t see that coming. I felt like screaming, ‘Sir, what are you thinking?’ at him. He agreed with us to vote for going back home just moments before the vote.”

“It can’t be helped,” In-ho spoke up, his tone even. “People tend to change their minds once they’re standing at the voting counter.”

His eyes lingered on your face, searching for any sign that his presence had an impact on you. But there was none.

Was it because you knew about my marriage? Had that changed things between us already?

He didn’t like that thought. He didn’t like the uncertainty it brought.

He found himself staring longer than he should have, lost in thought, until movement from Dae-ho snapped him out of it. The man leaned against the pillar of your bunk bed, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I understand him, but… what was Jung-bae thinking?”

In-ho cast a dark glance at Dae-ho, who remained oblivious. He noticed it then – the way Dae-ho hovered, the way he was so quick to linger by your side.

Did he like you?

It made sense. You were warmth in a place like this, a rare softness amidst brutality. Of course, others would be drawn to you. But In-ho didn’t want that. He didn’t know why, but the thought of someone else getting too close to you made something stir inside him. Something possessive.

So he acted.

Without a word, he sat down at the far corner of your bed, closing the distance between you both. He was now the closest to you, closer than Dae-ho, closer than anyone else.

“There’s no use thinking about it now,” he said, his voice steady. “The votes are done. Let’s focus on staying together and winning the game again tomorrow.”

Then came the moment when you refused to get up and queue for dinner.

“Don’t be like that,” Dae-ho urged. “You’ll end up weak and all skinny tomorrow.”

A brief silence followed before you quipped, “I’m trying to go on a diet anyway, so it’s fine.”

Dae-ho waved off your excuse. “Haih, you look beautiful already. Now get up—”

Before he could continue, In-ho spoke up, his voice firm yet composed. “It’s okay. You two go on ahead. The queues are getting long. I’ll persuade her.”

Dae-ho and Jun-hee hesitated, but after a moment, they left.

In-ho turned back to you, watching as you remained lying in bed, unmoving, your disappointment in the voting result still weighing heavily on you. He then attempted to coax you into queuing for dinner, but you remained lying in bed. You had no appetite, no motivation, only a heavy frustration that dulled your sense of hunger.

In-ho knew at this moment that coaxing you further would be useless. But he could do something else. He could make sure you ate.

After all, the next game was the Mingle game. Running, speed, stamina. It would all matter. And you wouldn’t get far on an empty stomach.

So, without another word, he left and joined the dinner queue. When he reached the front, the worker guard supervising the line handed him a single set of a round bun and a carton of milk.

In-ho didn’t take it.

Instead, he reached straight into the box, his fingers closing around a bun and a milk carton. He slipped them smoothly into the pocket of his jacket, then grabbed another set as if nothing had happened.

The worker guard hesitated, momentarily stunned. Behind him, a manager noticed but did nothing. Of course, they wouldn’t stop him. They knew exactly who he was.

Without another glance, In-ho turned and walked away, making sure none of the other players saw what he had done.

In-ho arrived at your bedside and called your name softly. The moment your eyes fluttered open, he handed you your set of dinner. You frowned before resting your head back against the pillow.

“I don’t want to eat your dinner. Don’t worry about me,” you murmured.

In-ho was amused. Even after knowing about his marriage, even when he knew you were hungry, your kindness and concern for him still remained. That part of you hadn’t changed. He glanced around briefly before revealing another set of dinner from his jacket.

“It’s not mine,” he told you. “It’s yours.”

Your gaze shifted to the food in his hands. Two sets – two buns and two cartons of milk. Surprise flickered across your face as you slowly sat up, the blanket slipping down from your shoulders.

“You got two?”

“I took another set on your behalf,” he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Your eyes widened. “We can do that?”

His smile grew in amusement. “We can’t.”

You stared at him, perplexed. “Then how did you get two?”

He extended the dinner toward you again, his voice calm yet knowing. “I know what to say to the guards. My line of work taught me how.”

***

[Back to present…]

“I may have led this hell myself, but I will be the one to keep you from burning.”

You closed your eyes, torn between the storm inside you and the undeniable pull of his touch.

Sensing no resistance from you, In-ho pulled the blanket around your naked body. His movements were careful and tender as if handling something fragile. Once you clutched it closer around yourself, he kissed your temple before shifting away from you.

You watched in silence as he sat at the side of the bed, bent down and retrieved a radio from a pocket of his Front Man coat. He pressed the button and brought it close to his bare face. “What’s the status on my dinner?”

A static-filled voice responded, “Currently being prepared, sir. It will be delivered shortly.”

You stared at his side profile quietly, noticing how attractive he looked from this angle.

In-ho informed, “Make another serving. Bring them both to my room as usual.”

“Understood.”

He set the radio down and turned back to you. His hair, no longer slicked back with oil, was all over his forehead. He looked every bit the Young-il you grew to love. And oh, it melted your guard as you stared at him quietly. His eyes – which you had seen turned dark and ruthless more than once – were now looking back at you softly.

He looked away and got up from the bed. He went to grab a black towel, wrapping it around his hips. He then retrieved a glass and a water bottle from the cupboard behind his study desk, pouring the clear liquid into the glass before turning back to you.

Silently, he extended it toward you. You hesitated for a moment before taking it from him, bringing it to your lips and drinking deeply. The cool water soothed your dry throat, but it did nothing to ease the tension gripping your chest.

“Wait here and rest up,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll call you when your dinner has arrived.”

“But Young—” you caught yourself, your lips pressing into a thin line before correcting, “I mean, In-ho. What will happen now? Will the games continue like usual?”

He met your gaze, but said nothing. His silence weighed heavier than any answer could have. You could see it in his eyes – this was the path he had chosen, the role he had accepted. The games would go on.

Disappointment settled over you like a thick fog, dimming whatever flicker of hope you had clung to. “What about our friends?”

Still, no answer. Just that same unreadable stare. A wall between you that you weren’t sure could ever be broken.

The sudden shrill ring of a wired telephone shattered the silence, making you flinch under the blanket. In-ho, too, tensed at the sound, his gaze snapping toward the door. His entire posture stiffened. You watched him carefully as he stared into space, contemplating.

Without turning back to you, he muttered, “Wait here.”

He strode to where his Front Man attire lay discarded on the floor. You observed as he put on his boxer and black pants and retrieved the dark coat, pulling it over his broad shoulders before reaching for the smooth, geometrical mask. He placed it over his face, transforming instantly from the man you knew into the enigma that ruled this place.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you swathed in the blanket on his bed. You kept still, suppressing even your breathing as you sharpened your hearing, hoping to catch fragments of the conversation.

The ringing ceased, replaced by the deep, robotic distortion of his voice as he answered in fluent English.

“Front Man speaking.”

A pause stretched. You wished you could hear the other caller but the walls swallowed the words before they could reach you. Then, In-ho’s voice emerged again, composed and authoritative.

“Ensure they don’t get anywhere close to this location.”

Another beat of silence. Then, he added, “All eyes are on Player 456. We will not allow another incident.”

You inhaled sharply. He was talking about Gi-hun. A cold realization settled over you. Gi-hun was still seen as a threat. They were watching his every move, ensuring he wouldn't instigate another uprising.

A long pause followed. You assumed the call had ended when you heard the soft ding of the elevator from beyond the door. Your heartbeat quickened.

Footsteps. Several of them. Boots clicking against the polished black and gold floor. Then, In-ho’s voice echoed once more, deep and authoritative. “Place them in the dining room.”

More steps, followed by the faint creak of a door opening. Ten seconds later, you heard those footsteps again in the hallway before another ding of the elevator.

Seconds later, the door to the bedroom where you lay opened. It was In-ho, fully dressed in his Front Man attire except for the mask. He had removed it, and his hoodie was down.

“Our dinner has arrived,” he announced as he stepped inside, standing beside the bed. His gaze softened as he looked down at you. “Can you stand?”

With your hands clutching the blanket tightly around yourself, you shifted toward the side of the bed. That’s when a hand, palm up, hovered in front of you. You blinked, glancing up at him with wide, hesitant eyes. In-ho was offering his hand to you.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his outstretched palm, before finally placing your hand in his. His fingers curled around yours, firm yet gentle, as he helped you rise from the bed. Your legs wobbled the moment your feet touched the floor, but his steady grip anchored you.

Before you could sway again, he slid an arm around your shoulders, drawing you closer against his chest. The warmth of his body radiated through the fabric of his clothing, and you gawked at him in quiet astonishment. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture, the close proximity of your bodies, left you feeling strangely breathless.

In-ho met your gaze, his expression calm and reassuring. “Let's go. I'll help you to the bathroom so you can clean up.”

Without another word, he guided you across the room, his arm remaining securely around your shoulders. Your naked form was still wrapped in the heavy black blanket from his bed, the fabric trailing along the floor as you moved. Yet, he seemed utterly unbothered by it. If anything, his focus was solely on ensuring you remained steady on your feet.

The two of you made your way toward the bathroom in silence. Each step sent a dull ache through your body, a lingering reminder of the intensity from earlier. But with In-ho's arm keeping you steady, the exhaustion felt more bearable.

You stepped into the opulent black and gold bathroom, feeling the contrast between the cool marble floor and your warm skin. A long, polished black marble sink stretched along one side of the room, adorned with gold-trimmed mirrors that reflected the soft, ambient lighting. The walk-in shower stood enclosed by sleek glass doors, its golden fixtures gleaming under the soft illumination. In the far corner, a luxurious bathtub rested as if waiting to cradle someone in its warmth.

In-ho guided you toward the shower, his arm still loosely wrapped around your shoulders. Stopping just before the glass door, he cautiously released his hold on you.

“You should take a shower first,” he said gently. “Then we can have dinner together.”

You nodded quietly, shifting slightly under his gaze. Your fingers hesitated before finally loosening the grip on the blanket wrapped around your form. The cool air brushed against your bare skin, making you shiver slightly.

Without a word, In-ho peeled the blanket off of you and folded it before he placed it over the marble sink. His movements were calm but when he turned back, his gaze darkened. His eyes roamed over your form, the once-calm expression clouded with something deeper. Something raw. Lust and longing flickered in his face, restrained yet unmistakable.

Your breath hitched as you noticed the way he was looking at you, heat rising to your cheeks. You quickly averted your gaze, pushing open the shower door as a means of breaking the tension. Stepping inside, you took a moment to examine the golden fixtures, scanning for a way to turn the water on.

Before you could figure it out, In-ho followed you inside, his presence looming close behind.

“Here,” he murmured, stepping forward. His fingers brushed against yours briefly before he reached up, adjusting the settings on the panel.

“This controls the temperature,” he explained, demonstrating how to find the right heat. Then, turning a different handle, he activated the rainfall shower above, letting warm water cascade down in smooth, steady streams. “And this is for the pressure.”

You stood still as the heat of the water mixed with the heat of his body near yours. The tension between you was thick, tangible. You swallowed hard, willing yourself to focus on the shower rather than the man beside you.

In-ho studied you for a moment longer before stepping back, his gaze lingering on your form. His voice was barely audible above the sound of the rainfall shower as he said, “I'll be outside when you're ready.”

With one last fleeting glance, he exited the shower, closing the glass door behind him. As the steam from the hot water filled the room, it obscured your view of him through the glass. By the time you lifted your gaze, he was already gone.

Dinner was quiet, tension thick in the air. The black and gold-themed dining room, though elegant, felt stifling. Both of you wore matching black bathrobes, fresh from the shower, the scent of soap still lingering.

You ate slowly, your mind too preoccupied to focus on the food. Across the table, In-ho watched you, his dark eyes lingering. There was something restrained in his gaze. Something dark and lustful.

Once the meal ended, In-ho stood and gestured for you to follow. You hesitated but eventually rose, trailing behind him through the grand halls.

The walk to his bedroom felt slow. When you entered the dimly lit space, unease settled in your chest. You sat on the bed as In-ho turned to the door. Without hesitation, he reached for the lock and twisted it shut. The soft click echoed, sending a shiver down your spine.

***

[The next morning…]

Several hours later, after sharing a shower, you both found yourselves in his bedroom. In-ho was getting dressed in his Front Man outfit, while you, still wrapped in your black bathrobe, searched the room for something.

He noticed and pointed. “Your clothes are over there.”

You followed his gesture and saw black pants and a matching trench coat. It looked just like his outfit, but there was no geometric mask for you.

After a moment of hesitation, you asked, “Where’s my uniform?”

In-ho turned to you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His hair was still messy from the shower, hanging over his forehead. He looked you over before asking with a neutral expression, “What uniform?”

“My manager uniform,” you clarified.

He looked away, adjusting his coat. His posture stiffened as he responded, “You don’t need to disguise yourself as a manager anymore. You can stay here until the games are over.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you serious? You can’t keep me locked up here the entire time.”

“I’m not,” he said simply. He finished adjusting his coat and turned back to face you, his expression unreadable. “You’re safer here. You won’t have to worry about getting caught.”

You shook your head. “But I still want to wear the disguise.”

His gaze hardened. “You want to help them in the next game, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer. He had figured it out instantly. He knew you were thinking about your friends – Jun-hee, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, Yong-sik and his mother, Hyun-ju. Even Se-mi, who had been difficult to trust you, was on your mind.

Instead of confirming it, you asked, “Is that wrong?”

He stared at you with a conflicted expression. Something about this moment made him hesitate. It was as if there was something he didn’t want you to know.

“You can’t help much for the next game,” he finally said.

You blinked, caught off guard by his words. The statement confused you. Worry crept in as you thought about your friends, who were about to play the fifth game. If you couldn’t do anything, did that mean they were in serious danger? What kind of game was it that even a disguised manager couldn’t intervene?

You stared at him wide-eyed. “What’s the next game?”

In-ho looked at you like he had been expecting the question but dreaded it. He didn’t answer. His hesitation only fueled your curiosity.

“What is it?” you pressed softly.

He looked away, casting his gaze down. His jaw tightened as he seemed to struggle with himself. Finally, after a long pause, he admitted, “The next game is called ‘Why Did You Come to My House.’”

You frowned. You recognized that children’s game. It was a team-based competition where one side had to take over all the members of the other team to win. But something didn’t add up. How could a game like that lead to player eliminations?

A heavy silence settled between you. In-ho glanced at you, noticing your confusion. He quickly averted his gaze before speaking again, “The surviving players will be separated randomly into either the blue or red team.”

Without another word, he turned toward the door. You could tell there was more he wanted to explain, so you followed him. The next room was dimly lit, its centerpiece a mannequin dressed in a black suit with a golden animal mask covering its head.

In-ho stopped before the dressing table. He reached for a small bottle of men’s hair oil, pouring a little into his hands before combing his hair back neatly. The slicked-back style made his sharp features even more defined. As he worked, he continued his explanation.

“Before they are taken to the next game’s location, the players will queue in front of a giant gumball machine. Each player will take a turn and receive either a red or blue ball. They will be split into two teams, regardless of their X or O patch.”

In-ho set down the bottle of hair oil and glanced at you through the mirror. His expression remained unreadable, but there was an unease in the way he carefully adjusted his collar.

“How much do you know about Why Did You Come to My House?” In-ho asked.

“A lot,” you replied. “Players split into two teams. One person from each team plays rock-paper-scissors to decide who attacks first. The two teams then stand in parallel lines, holding hands. The game begins with the defending team moving forward singing the first line of the song while the attacking team steps back. Then the attackers step forward singing the second line. The defenders ask, ‘Which flower?’ and the attackers name a player to steal. That named player faces an opponent in rock-paper-scissors. If they lose, they move into the attacker's team. If they win, they stay. This continues until one team takes all the players.”

In-ho adjusted his hair, his fingers running through it as he gave a slight nod. “That’s right. But the rules are different this time.”

You swallowed hard. The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. “What’s changed?”

He turned to you, his expression sharp. “Players still form two teams, but now, each round, both teams pick one player to face off in rock-paper-scissors. The loser isn’t just switching teams anymore. They will be eliminated.”

Your breath caught. “Eliminated? As in…”

“Yes,” In-ho said. “They’re removed from the game entirely. The rounds continue until one team loses all its players. The survivors on the winning team move on.”

Silence settled between you. The game had transformed into something far more brutal. There would be no second chances, no coming back. Just win, or disappear.

The moment the words left In-ho’s mouth, a wave of emotions crashed over you. Shock paralyzed your body. Another simple childhood game turned into a merciless execution? Your stomach twisted as the reality of it set in. Your friends, the people you had fought to protect, would be forced into a game where their survival hinged on nothing more than a hand gesture. The thought made you feel sick.

But there must be some way to stop it. Some loophole, some hidden rule that could be exploited. But as you looked at In-ho’s face, the hardened gaze he wore like armor, you knew there was none. His silence only confirmed it.

You could imagine Jun-hee, her hands cradling her belly protectively as her soft eyes darted around. You thought of Gi-hun, his stubbornness keeping him upright even as fear gnawed at his resolve. Dae-ho, Jung-bae, Hyun-ju, Yong-sik, his mother. All of them, at the mercy of this game. A game where luck decided their fate.

Then came the sadness. A deep, suffocating grief at the thought of losing them. The bonds you had formed weren’t just for survival. They had become your family. And now, one by one, they would be taken from you. The worst part was knowing you could do nothing to stop it. You had never felt so powerless.

But beneath all that pain, another emotion burned hotter, stronger. Betrayal.

Your fists clenched, your nails digging into your palms as you turned to In-ho. The man who had sheltered you, who had given you a role that kept you safe, was the same man overseeing this massacre.

“How could you let this continue?” you demanded, your voice barely above a whisper, but laced with anger.

In-ho sighed before he looked away. “These are the rules. The games have to continue.”

“Not like this!” you snapped. “Not them! They don’t deserve this!”

He replied, his voice colder now, as he stared at himself in the mirror. “But the games go on regardless of what we think. Regardless of what I think.”

You took a step closer, forcing him to meet your glare through the mirror. “But you have the power to stop it.”

“It isn’t that easy,” he turned and looked back at you. “Do you think I own this room? That I started this place? Do you think I’m the only one pulling the strings?”

“You enforce it,” you shot back. “You make sure it happens. You wear that mask and pretend you don’t care, but you do. I know you do. I saw the way you cared about Jun-hee.”

For the first time, a flicker of something flashed across In-ho’s face. A crack in the carefully constructed armor he always wore. But it was gone in an instant.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel,” he said, his voice quiet. “This is not the first time a pregnant player participates. It won’t change anything.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs. “So you’ll just let them die?”

He exhaled slowly, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “That’s how this place works. That’s how it’s always worked everywhere.”

The words stung, but they weren’t enough to shake your fury. “And you’re okay with that?”

Silence.

That was all the answer you needed.

You took a step back, feeling the weight of the conversation settle on your shoulders. It was suffocating. You had thought, maybe foolishly, that In-ho still had some shred of humanity left. That beneath the mask and the cold exterior, there was a part of him that regretted all of this. Maybe there was. But it wasn’t enough.

“So…” you stared at him in disbelief and shock. “Gi-hun was right, after all. You saw us like horses. We’re just trashes to you.”

In-ho’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened slightly as if you had struck something deep within him. His usual unreadable expression faltered, the cracks in his composed mask growing more visible. He looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came. His lips parted, then pressed into a thin line, hesitation flickering across his face.

You glowered at him, the weight of everything suffocating. Without another word, you spun on your heel and marched into the bedroom. Your heart pounded as you scanned the room, searching for something. The floor was clean, no discarded clothes or signs of disorder. Your gaze landed on his study desk. There, neatly folded on the chair, was your square guard’s hot pink jumpsuit.

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed it and swiftly started putting it on. Your movements were sharp, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and anger. You slid your legs in first, then pulled the sleeves over your arms. As you zipped it up, the door behind you creaked open.

“What are you doing?” In-ho’s voice carried disbelief and frustration.

You didn’t turn around. “I’m going back out there.”

“You can’t,” he said, stepping further into the room. “It’s too dangerous.”

You scoffed, adjusting the jumpsuit. “And it’s not dangerous for them? For Gi-hun, for Jun-hee, for the others? They don’t even have a choice, but I do. And I’m not staying here while they’re out there fighting for their lives.”

In-ho exhaled sharply. “The other guards will not stand by and let you ruin the games.”

Finally, you turned to face him. His hair was neatly slicked back. His expression was a storm of conflicting emotions. Anger, concern, something else buried beneath it all.

You asked pointedly, “But will they shoot me once they know who I am?”

He stayed silent, his gloved hands balling into fists at his sides.

“That’s what I thought,” you muttered, brushing past him toward the door. But before you could reach it, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

“Stop,” he said, his voice lower now, almost desperate. “You think you can handle this by yourself? Do you think you can stop games that have been operating for more than thirty years so easily? Stopping this place wouldn’t stop this operation completely.”

You yanked your wrist free. “Maybe not. But at least I won’t be watching from the sidelines while my friends die.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes dark with frustration. “If you get exposed, it will be hard for me to cover you.”

“I don’t care.”

He exhaled deeply as if trying to steady himself. “No matter what you do, don’t do anything rash. I care about you, but if you—”

“Then help me save them, please,” you pleaded, cutting him off.

“Them?” In-ho’s eyes narrowed as he regarded you. “Do you mean you want to save all of them? Even the ones who only care about themselves? Even someone like player 100?”

You fell silent, momentarily caught off guard by his reaction. It was in that instant you realized his defenses were beginning to crack, exposing a glimpse of the deeply held beliefs he had tried so hard to mask. 

“I want to save whoever I can,” you said firmly.

In-ho scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s naive.”

He turned away for a moment as if trying to compose himself. Then, when he faced you again, his expression was steeled with something harsher. “Some of them deserve this.”

You frowned, unsure if you had heard him correctly. “Deserve what?”

“The games,” he stood rigidly as he observed your reaction, his voice taking on a colder edge. “You think everyone here is innocent? That they all got caught up in this unfairly? That’s not true. Some of them are here because of their own selfishness. Their greed. Their complete disregard for others."

He stepped closer, his gaze intense. “Do you know what player 100 did? He borrowed billions from desperate people, promising high returns, only to vanish with their savings. He destroyed families. And player 226? He pushed his own brother into ruin just to escape his own debt, but still it isn't enough for him. Tell me, do they deserve your sympathy?”

You hesitated.

“People like them,” he continued, his voice laced with conviction, “are the reason this world is broken. They climb over others, they exploit, they lie, and when they fall, they expect to be saved. Why should you risk yourself for them?”

You stayed quiet, giving him space to speak. You wanted to see what was hidden behind his guarded expressions, to understand his views and the way he managed these games. You had fallen for Oh Young-il, but you still needed to know more about Hwang In-ho. The man behind the mask. The enforcer of the rules.

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down, pushing forward.

“Then what about me?” you asked, your voice steady despite the unease in your chest. “Am I a trash in your eyes too?”

In-ho stiffened. His jaw clenched, his fingers curling into his palms. His breath came slower, heavier as if you had struck something deep within him. For a long moment, he didn’t respond, and the air between you felt heavier than ever.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re different.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

“How so?” you asked, your voice softer now, wary of his answer.

In-ho’s gaze wavered just slightly. “You…"

Your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes widened, anticipation shimmering in them like a reflection of the truth you had been waiting to hear. It felt like the answer was right there, hanging in the air, waiting to be spoken. A confirmation of something unspoken yet deeply felt. It felt like this answer would determine everything – whether you could trust him, whether there was a future for the two of you at all.

But just as the moment reached its breaking point, a sharp, static crackle interrupted it. The radio inside In-ho’s coat pocket buzzed to life, and the distorted voice of the masked officer cut through the heavy silence.

“Captain, the VIPs have arrived.”

The words shattered the fragile space between you like glass meeting concrete. In-ho’s expression stiffened instantly, the vulnerability in his eyes vanishing behind a hardened mask. He reached into his coat, pulling out the radio, his grip tightening around it as if bracing himself.

He pressed the button and told through the radio, “Understood. I will be there.”

He put away the radio and turned to you. “They’re here earlier than expected. I have to go.”

The abrupt shift left you feeling unsteady as if the ground beneath your feet had tilted. The moment that had almost happened between you was gone, yanked away by the cruel reality of where you both stood.

In-ho walked back toward the door and said without looking back, “Stay here.”

You glared at his back, frustration boiling inside you. Like hell you were going to sit here while your friends fought for their lives. Without a second thought, you grabbed your manager mask from the table and followed him out into the hallway.

As you caught up, you saw him raise his Front Man mask and fit it over his face, the sharp angles making him look as unreadable as ever. You stood behind him and said with a firm tone, “There’s no way I’m standing aside and watching my friends die.”

He didn’t stop moving. Your voice remained low yet insistent as you added, “Is there something you can do? Anything? Can you let them live even if they get eliminated?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned around and kept walking. He exited the dressing room and into the hallway. You followed him like an aimless kitten. His silence dragged the tension between you to its breaking point.

You wanted to grab his arm, force him to stop, but something about the way he carried himself told you that he was already at war with whatever answer he would give.

Suddenly, he halted in the middle of the hallways. It’s as if he knew that you were following him and would not stop unless he gave a clear answer.

He let out a slow breath and spoke up, voice distorted and robotic behind that mask. “If I do that, it will go against everything I enforce in these games.”

You frowned, frustration simmering beneath your skin. You took a step closer until you stood right beside him. With his body still facing the door and yours facing him, you asked, “What exactly do you uphold in these games?”

He turned his head slightly, just enough so you could see the sharp lines of his mask in the dim light.

“Fairness,” he said. “Equality. Players and guards alike. The rules apply to everyone.”

You exhaled, the ache in your chest growing heavier. “But this is different. Their lives matter too. Couldn’t you change that? Just this once? Just for them only.”

You hesitated before continuing, your voice barely above a whisper as you counted your friends who were still playing. “Jun-hee, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, Yong-sik and his mother, Hyun-ju, Se-mi, and also Myung-gi. Couldn’t you hide them if they get eliminated, and just let the O players finish the games.”

Silence stretched between you. In-ho stood still, his masked face tilted slightly downward as if staring at you. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He simply watched you, the stillness making your heart pound harder. Was he considering it? Was there a part of him that wanted to agree?

Seconds passed. Then a minute.

You held your breath, waiting for something. Anything. The soft hum of distant machinery filled the space, but all you could focus on was him. The way he was standing. The way his head was slightly bowed as if your words had reached a place within him that even he wasn’t sure existed anymore.

Then, finally, he inhaled slowly.

“If I do that,” he said at last, his voice low, careful, “I put everything at risk. Myself. The structure. The rules that keep this place from falling apart.”

You swallowed hard. “But what happens if you don’t? What happens when you watch them die, knowing you could’ve done something?”

A flicker of hesitation. You saw it in the way his posture shifted, in the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly at his sides. He had thought about this before. Maybe not about your friends specifically, but about something like this. About the cost of playing his role.

“I don’t have the luxury of questioning these things,” he finally muttered.

You stepped closer, your voice softer now, almost pleading. “Then why are you hesitating?”

He turned fully to face you now. “Because you’re asking me to break the rules. To compromise everything I’ve built to keep order.”

“And I’m asking you to remember that you’re human.”

Another silence stretched between you. You could feel it crackling in the air, the tension thick and suffocating. He was fighting something inside himself, something he didn’t want to admit.

For the first time since you had known him, he looked at you in long silence as if he wasn’t sure of himself. As if, just maybe, you had found the one crack in his armor that he had spent years trying to keep hidden.

And you wanted to put more cracks in his wall. Stepping closer, you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze with wide, unwavering eyes. The height difference made you appear smaller, but there was nothing fragile about the way you spoke. Your voice was soft, yet edged with something sharp.

“If you can’t do anything, then fine,” you said. “But if they die, I will hate you.”

In-ho remained silent. He took in the restrained fury burning behind your eyes, the way your body stood tense, ready to pounce like a mother cat protecting her own.

You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself. “Is this who you want to be? A man who lets people die because everyone is like a trash to him? A man who stands by and watches when he could’ve made a difference?”

Still, no answer. You shook your head.

“I refuse to believe you’ve lost every part of yourself,” you said. “The man I see now… the one who hesitates, who lingers on my words… he is not a machine. He is not just a mask. And I don’t think he wants to be.”

Silence stretched between you.

His posture remained rigid, but his breathing had changed. A fraction deeper. A fraction slower. Like something was unraveling inside him, thread by thread.

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to answer. You didn’t know if your words got through his wall – his mask. But you couldn’t linger here any longer. Your friends’ lives mattered more.

Reaching for your manager mask, you pulled it over your face, the smooth surface cool against your skin. Without another word, you turned and strode toward the elevator. You pressed the down button, and almost immediately, the doors slid open.

Stepping inside, you turned around just in time to see him still standing in the same spot, unmoving. He looked frozen in place as if caught between the choice of letting you go and calling you back.

Then, just as the elevator doors began to close, the radio in his coat crackled to life.

“Captain, the VIPs are looking for you,” came the masked officer’s distorted voice from the other end.

The last thing you saw before the doors shut was In-ho, his body stiffening at the summons. And then he was gone, swallowed by the mechanical whir of the elevator descending.

***

You were in a storage room somewhere within the game management facility. Your mask was off, clutched tightly in your hand. Sweat clung to your skin, making strands of hair stick to your face. You stared at the floor, lost in thought, your mind racing through everything you had just learned.

“So that’s the next game,” Gyeong-seok murmured, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

You had managed to find him and 011 among the sea of soldiers. 011, ever the cautious one, had led you both to this storage room, away from prying eyes.

You had told them everything you knew – or almost everything. You had carefully left out certain details: the true identity of the Front Man, his past as player 001, and most importantly, your involvement with him. Some things were too dangerous – and embarrassing for you – to reveal.

011, her own mask discarded on the table beside her, exhaled. Her dark hair clung to her skin just like yours as she said, “I’m surprised he told you that much.”

“Is there any loophole to save them?” you asked, voice tight with urgency. If anyone knew the inner workings of the games well enough to find an opening, it was her.

011’s gaze flickered, scanning your expression before she responded. “This game had been played twice throughout my years here. The way I see it... I think we can't do much.”

You and Gyeong-seok were stunned, the color draining from your faces as her words sank in. The latter straightened slightly from the wall and said, “Are you sure?”

She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his forlorn expression. With a heavy sigh, she said, “In this game, the soldiers shoot the players who lose rock, paper, scissors on the spot, just like in the Seven-Legged Hexathlon and the Open, Dongdaemun game. We can't change that. If some soldiers discreetly lead certain players to an isolated area for an out-of-sight elimination, it would raise too many questions.”

You lowered your gaze, staring at the floor, your mind racing for any possible way to save your friends. The more you thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. Every scenario ended the same way. With them being forced to play, with them losing, with them being gunned down in front of everyone.

Hopelessness settled into your bones. You felt so small, so powerless. It was suffocating. But you couldn’t accept it. There had to be a loophole somewhere. A flaw in the system. Something they hadn’t accounted for. You just had to find it.

Just as despair threatened to take over, 011 spoke up, “But there is a way…”

Your head snapped up, and Gyeong-seok turned sharply, both of you staring at her with wide, hopeful eyes. She hesitated, her gaze flickering between you both before she looked away. The weight of what she was about to say was clear in her hesitation.

“What is it?” Gyeong-seok asked in a hopeful tone.

011 let out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms. “There’s an underground cave that leads to the ocean below us. Dive packs and oxygen tanks are stored there already. If I can make it there, I’ll swim to the nearest island and find help.”

You blinked, trying to process what she had just said. “Wait… there’s a way off this place?”

She nodded. “Yes. But it’s not simple. While the access to get there is easy, CCTVs are everywhere. If I’m caught in the live feed, the masked officer or the Front Man will be alerted.”

Gyeong-seok narrowed his eyes. “That's risky.”

011 met his gaze, her expression firm. “It is. But there is another access to get there. It's in the kitchen. But workers are regularly passing that room.”

You perked up. “Workers?”

011 nodded to you. “Yes, workers. This is where you could divert their attention as a manager.”

You swallowed hard, the idea beginning to take shape in your mind. “How far is the swim?”

“Roughly two kilometers,” she answered. “It won’t be easy, but there are dive packs.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of her out in open water, alone, with no guarantee she would make it. But what other option did you have? Staying meant watching your friends die one by one. Leaving meant at least trying to fight back.

Gyeong-seok stepped closer to 011, his voice firm. “I’ll come with you.”

011 seemed taken aback. “No. You stay here.”

“It is unsafe for you in the open ocean alone,” he insisted, locking eyes with her. “I will go with you.”

011 stared at him with quiet intensity, her hard gaze softening into doe-eyes for him. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was an unspoken tension between them. While 011 had always kept her distance from both you and Gyeong-seok, it suddenly became clear. There was a reason she had chosen to save him in the first place. It was thanks to him that she saved you too.

Finally, 011 turned to you. “Will you be okay staying here alone?”

You nodded without hesitation. “Yes. You two just go ahead. I will do whatever I can to keep them safe.”

With that, the plan was set.

011 led you toward the kitchen, guiding you through the corridors like she knew them by heart. As she had said, workers swarmed the kitchen, moving in and out like a colony of ants. The scent of food filled the air, mingling with the tension thick in your chest.

You straightened your posture, adopting the authoritative presence of a manager. With short, clipped orders, you directed the circle guards away, telling them to fetch supplies elsewhere. They obeyed without a question. Soon, the kitchen was empty, save for you, 011, and Gyeong-seok, now in disguise.

011 wasted no time. She turned off the lights, plunging the room into a dim haze. You locked the doors behind you, ensuring no one would walk in unexpectedly. Then, she and Gyeong-seok pushed a massive freezer away from the wall, the heavy metal scraping against the tiled floor.

Behind it was a crawl-sized hole, just big enough for a person to slip through.

“This is it,” 011 said, turning to you. “Please wait for us. We will alert the authorities as fast as possible.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Be careful.”

She nodded wordlessly before slipping through the hole, Gyeong-seok following close behind. Under 011's guidance, he grabbed the chain tied to the back of the freezer and pulled it back into its original position.

You exhaled slowly, turning back toward the locked door. Now came the hardest part: waiting.

***

You had returned to the control room, hands moving over the monitor as you operated the live feeds. Only the masked officer stood supervising the room, overseeing the overall operation. As you worked, your gaze occasionally flicked to the dormitory’s feed.

The players had just woken up. Your eyes scanned for your friends, and soon, you noticed a gathering. A small crowd had formed around one bed in the X zone. Your stomach tightened.

Before you could observe longer, the elevator chimed. The sound made your shoulders stiffen. You turned slightly, just enough to see the doors slide open, revealing Hwang In-ho clad in his full Front Man attire. His presence alone made the air in the control room heavier. He stepped out, surveying the space with his usual scrutiny. Instinctively, you looked away, forcing your attention back on the feeds, watching as pink guards moved through the halls.

You could feel his gaze lingering on you. It burned through your back, making every movement at your console feel heavy and scrutinized.

You couldn’t believe you had slept with him… multiple rounds. You had slept with the overseer of this whole operation. You pursed your lips to a thin line beneath your manager mask and mused, Gosh, you really are a whore.

“What’s the status on the players’ breakfast?” In-ho finally spoke in his deep, distorted voice behind that mask.

The masked officer, standing near the main monitors, turned toward him. “They are ready to be distributed.”

In-ho gave a curt nod. “And the next game’s preparations?”

“Everything is on schedule,” the masked officer responded. “We expect to begin at the designated time.”

Before In-ho could reply, static crackled through the masked officer’s radio. “Officer, we have a situation in the dormitory.”

Both the Front Man and the masked officer turned their attention to the monitors. You stole another glance at the live feed, your heart pounding faster. The cluster of players in the X zone had grown, figures moving frantically around the same bed.

“What is it?” the masked officer asked.

The guard on the other end hesitated for a moment before replying, “It appears a player is giving birth.”

Your breath caught. Your fingers froze over the console. Your eyes widened.

Jun-hee is giving birth.

NSFW ver. : Chapter 18.2

NEXT : Chapter 19

PREV : Chapter 17.1

Story Masterlist

Thank you for the warm wishes, everyone! I am still a bit ill which is odd because a normal fever usually lasts for 3-4 days for me but now it still persists albeit very vaguely. But I've taken medicines and all so I will be fine. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback about my story, the characters, the "you", and practically anything! I love reading your comments, especially long ones! It motivates me a lot! What do you think about In-ho's flashback and P.O.V? Did I make him OOC? Is the length of that flashback good enough? Then, what about In-ho's care for you after your lovemaking? And what about your confrontation with him? He told you about the fifth game. Do you know where I got that Why Did You Come To My House game details from? And oh, what about 011 and Gyeong-seok going to the underground cave and leaving the place to find help? Do you think it will happen that way in the third season? Finally, what do you think about Jun-hee giving birth at this moment? Considering there have been signs and tells in the series that she was due, it is predicted that she would give birth in this place. I really want to know your reaction on this! Anyway, thank you very much for giving my story a chance. I love reading and re-reading all of your comments!

Leave a comment on the masterlist post to be added to the taglist.

[ritualoftheancients]

Ritual of the Ancients Chapter 17: You Can't Save Everyone

by Roan Rosser

This is a chapter of a complete vampire novel with a trans-masc main character and a gay romance subplot. New Chapters are posted every Sunday. If you like the novel and want to support the author, ebook and paperback copies can be purchased here.

*****

I paced while Jack sat back down on the couch. “So, what’s the plan then?”

“Let’s try the easiest route first: calling them.” Jack pulled a new prepaid cellphone out of his pocket and then looked expectantly at me. “And come sit down. You’re making me nervous with all that pacing.”

“Won’t she be tracing any calls that come into their number?” I asked, whirling to face Jack.

“Probably, but tracing takes time. We’ll start a timer, no longer than thirty seconds on the phone, then I hang up no matter what.” Jack patted the couch cushion next to him, and I came over and sat on the edge. My leg jumped, and I tapped my foot. I wanted to move, go somewhere, do something, and was having a hard time sitting still.

Jack put the phone to his ear, listening to it ring. After a moment he put it down again. “No answer. Do you have any other way to reach them?”

“That was their house phone. They both have cellphones.” I gave him my mom’s number first.

“No answer.”

“Try my dad’s cell.”

I stared at Jack impatiently, groaning when he again lowered the phone without saying anything.

“Nothing?” My panic was returning. “Why aren’t they answering?” My voice raised and cracked at the end. I was sure I sounded like a teenager, but I was too panicked to be embarrassed.

“You have no idea at all where they could be?” Jack looked at me with a frown. “It’s past nine, so I’m surprised that they aren’t home, but it is Friday night. Date night, maybe?”

I shook my head. “No, not really. Maybe we could try my brother? We can get his number from the local directory.”

“Better not to get anyone else involved if we can help it,” Jack said, crossing his arms. “Do they have any favorite restaurants they’d be at, anything like that?”

“There is one thing,” I said slowly. “Where’s the tablet?” Without waiting for an answer, I jumped up and jogged into the kitchen where I’d left it. I laid the tablet on the coffee table so Jack wouldn’t see how bad my hands were shaking as I typed in the group’s website, then navigated to the “Events” tab to find my worst fears confirmed. “Shit!” I jumped to my feet to stomp around the living room.

“What?” Jack leaned over the tablet and read the page out loud. “May Crown Tournament.” He looked up at me with an amused smile. “Your parents are role-players?”

“Kinda. My mom loves period costuming and sewing, and the group is a great excuse for her to sew new outfits for the whole family.” Feeling a little better for the stomping, I knelt on the other side of the coffee table to reach the tablet. I scrolled down the page and pointed to a line in the schedule. “That’s why they aren’t home and aren’t answering their phones.”

“Bardic circle,” Jack read, then glanced back up at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know that dressing up and singing merit that deep of a scowl.”

“It’s not the singing, it’s the damn dressing up.” I pushed up from the coffee table and glared down at the tablet. “Growing up, she was always dragging me to those things. After five boys, I was her only ‘girl’,” I made air quotes around the word, “and she was so excited to make dresses for me. She treated me like her doll. Frilly lace and corsets, and god, I hated it so much.” I felt like punching something just talking about it. Stomping across the room helped only so much. “We were always fighting about it.” I scowled harder and crossed my arms.

“Well, no dressing up this time,” Jack said in an understanding voice.

“So what does this circle have to do with not answering their phones?”

“It’s really discouraged to answer a cellphone at these events, especially at the bardic circles.”

“So we leave them a message telling them they are in danger, and to go to the police.” Jack bent over the tablet again. “This says quiet hours start at ten, so they’ll get the message when they get home for the night.

I groaned. “Knowing how seriously my mom takes these things, they left their phones at home. Besides, the police are a bad idea. Lady Ann has cops on her payroll. Remember those cops who showed up at my apartment?”

Jack nodded.

“Remember I told you I went to talk to one of them? They work for her.” I moved around to sit back down next to Jack and covered my face with my hands. “How are we going to get a message to them now?”

“You mentioned five brothers? Do they all live in town?”

I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “No, just my brother Michael, two years older than me. He works at Dad’s garage. All my other brothers moved away. They’re scattered all over the country. Why?”

“Just trying to figure out who else she might go after next.” Jack sighed. “Alright, let’s give your brother Michael a call, since he’d be the next logical choice for her to go after anyway.”

“Thank you.” I raised my head and gave Jack a grateful smile.

I looked up Michael’s number through my email account, since my cellphone was long gone, and read the number off to Jack. I reached for the phone, but Jack shook his head, switching hands to hold the phone on the side away from me. “No, too dangerous. In case he’s already involved, let me do the—”

Michael must have answered, because Jack cut himself off abruptly.

“Hello, Michael? This is Detective Jack Petty.” There was a pause.

I raised my eyebrows at this lie. Jack saw and waved me off with a smile. “No, the reason I’m calling is about your brother, Everett.”

“What!” I blurted out. Jack’s free hand swung up and clamped over my mouth before I could say anything else.

“Sorry about that. Yes, no, your brother is fine. He’s in police custody right now—”

Jack glanced at me. I lifted a hand to make a zipping motion across my lips. Jack nodded and let go.

“So you haven’t seen the news?” Jack asked, and then paused again. I was dying of curiosity about what my brother was saying on the other end of the line. Why didn’t vampires get enhanced hearing like the movies? I leaned closer, trying to hear, but Jack pushed me away.

“I don’t have time to go over the details of your brother’s case with you at this time. I’m calling you about another urgent matter. We have reason to suspect that you and your parents’ lives are in danger. However, we’ve been unable to reach your parents. Where are you right now?”

Jack glanced at me and frowned. “Well, that is good news. Please stay where you are for now. You should be safe in Miami. We have reason to believe the threat is local to Portland.”

Another pause, and I fidgeted nervously. My stomach sank at the mention of Miami. Although I was happy that Michael was out of town, which should mean he would be out of Lady Ann’s reach, it meant that he couldn’t go by and warn our parents. I hoped this was for the gay cruise he’d mentioned last time we’d talked. He deserved to be able to cut loose away from our ultra-conservative parents.

“Yes, do you have any other way to reach them?” Jack paused again. “Hood River County Fairgrounds, got it. We’ll send a few officers by there to check on them. Thank you for the information.”

Jack hung up and lowered the phone, then gave me a sympathetic look. “I take it you overheard? Michael confirmed your hunch about where your parents are. He said the only way to reach them is going to be going by in person. The good news is that he’s on vacation in Miami, so he’ll be safe.”

“So, who can we call?” I stared back at Jack. “And who’s Jack Petty? I thought from that memory I saw that your last name is Prashad.”

“It was Prashad. Since I went into the supernatural’s version of wit-sec for outed supernaturals, it’s been Jack Smith.”

I made a face and Jack laughed.

“I know, believe me, but I didn’t get a choice. They insisted on nice and generic. I’m just glad they let me keep my first name. Anyway, I’m not going to give out my real name, am I?”

“I guess not, but you didn’t answer my first question.”

“I didn’t answer because we aren’t going to do anything else. We’ve pushed our luck as it is.” Jack held up a hand to forestall my protests. “We can’t get anyone else involved, and we have no way to warn them by phone.”

“It’s only an hour’s drive up there,” I pleaded. “We go up there, warn them, come back. No one even has to know we left.”

“I’d know.” Jack looked uncomfortable. “It’s just too dangerous. You know she’s going to have people watching them. Besides, we both know that a warning probably won’t make any difference. If she wants them dead, there’s really nothing we can do to stop it.”

“So why help me try to call them?” I clasped my hands together and made a pleading look.

“Everett, I was helping you mostly for your piece of mind. You’re just going to have to accept the fact that you won’t get to make up with them.”

“If we disguise ourselves, they won’t know who we are. Besides, they’ll be looking for one person, not two.”

Jack shook his head. “No.”

“I can use my speed to get in and out. Lady Ann���s thugs will be human. They’ll never even see me.” I lifted my hand, palm towards Jack, and put the other one over my heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“Alright, let’s play this game.” Jack shifted to face me. He started ticking points off on his finger. ”If you manage to speed or sneak past the guards— who are by the way, probably well-trained mercenaries or ex-military—and then if you manage to find your parents’ tent in a dark field filled with near identical tents, how do you convince them of the danger?”

I frowned and stayed silent for a moment while Jack looked at me expectantly. “Well, Michael seemed to take you seriously,” I said finally.

Jack shook his head. “He thought I was a cop. These are your parents who from the sound of things, haven’t listened to you very well in the past.” Jack waved a hand. “Okay, let’s skip that and pretend they do listen. How do you get them to safety, back out past Lady Ann’s guards? Without,” Jack fixed me with a glare, “revealing you are a vampire. Top secret, remember?”

“I guess I didn’t think that far ahead,” I admitted. “Forewarned is forearmed. Once they know about the threat, they should be okay, right?”

“You’re the youngest of six, was it?”

I nodded, not seeing where Jack was going. “Yeah, so?”

“How old are your parents, Everett?”

“They’re both almost sixty, but my dad’s a mechanic, and keeps in shape. My mom’s really active too. She walks a mile every morning.”

“You think they’re a match for trained fighters?”

I threw up my hands in frustration. “You keep mentioning mercenaries, but we don’t know that. She’s a mobster, she doesn’t have an army. For all we know, she might not even have anyone there.” Saying that gave me another idea. “Wait, maybe she doesn’t. What if we just go up there and check it out, take out anyone who looks like a threat? Then I wouldn’t even have to talk to my parents.”

“The ones who took me were professionals, but—” Jack closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with one hand. “Everett… You seem to be missing my point.” He opened his eyes and took my hands in his. “You can’t save them. We’ve done all we can. Now we just sit tight.”

“But—” I tried to pull away, but Jack squeezed my hands and gave me a sad look.

“Everett, I know you don’t want to lose them, but I want you to understand something.” He leaned closer and rested his forehead against mine. “I don’t want to lose you, either.”

I started shaking, and Jack put his arms around me and pulled me close.

“What if—”

“No, Everett. We can’t risk it.”

I swallowed. “I just want to talk to them. I sneak in, say my piece, and then get out.”

“Damn you, Everett. We agreed it’s a risk.” Jack tightened his arms around me and began massaging my shoulders.

“I know.” I leaned back into Jack. “I know it’s dangerous, but I just want to see my parents one last time. Have a chance to make peace with them.”

Jack sighed heavily. “I understand. I want to help you, but it doesn’t matter without a car to get up there.”

“You don’t have a car?” I sat back to regard him. “How did you get to the grocery store then?”

Jack laughed. “I walked. My car got mysteriously filled with bullet holes, remember?”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “If we get a car, you’ll agree to help?”

“You’re so stubborn, and you look before you leap.” Jack sighed. “I love it about you. I even like how bad you are at lying, although we are going to have to work on changing that if you’re going to keep your vampire nature a secret. But yes, I can understand. If I could go back, I’d want one last chance to see my parents.”

I chewed my lip. “So what now?”

“Let’s get a car.” Jack pulled out a phone and started scrolling through the contacts. “Too late to rent one, and everyone you know is out, obviously. Problem is, I’m still pretty new to town, and most of the people I know are connected to the office. We don’t want Stacy getting wind of this, so that narrows the list considerably.”

“The only person I’ve talked to that isn’t part of the offices is Emily. Or would she still be at the offices?” I said slowly.

“Not a bad idea. She fell asleep at the wheel and her car hit the freeway dividers. Not serious and the airbags went off, so she wasn’t hurt, just startled enough to trigger her transformation. Meant there weren’t any

witnesses, so she could just go back to her life.”

“Wait, if she crashed, her car won’t be drivable.”

“I talked more with her after you went to bed. She has to drive a lot for work. I bet she already has a new one by now, or at least a rental we could borrow.”

Jack scrolled to her name and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hello, Emily. This is Jack. From PCA. Yes. How are you doing?”

Jack nodded along to her words, smiling. “Good, good. Listen, I have a favor to ask. My car broke down, and Everett and I need to run up to Mount Hood tonight.” There was another pause. “Yes, exactly. That would be great. It’s near Lloyd center. I’ll text you the address. Right then, see you soon.” He hung up and turned to me, smiling. “She is happy to lend us a car.

She’ll be picking us up in fifteen.”

***

Emily honked when she arrived, pulling up in a brand-new white sedan with a temporary plate taped in the rear window. Jack and I went out to meet her. She smiled warmly at Jack as she got out of the driver’s side, but her smile faded when she nodded her head to me.

Emily looked much better today. Her hair was done up, and she wore understated makeup and a professional suit. I was surprised, given how late it was, that she looked like she’d come straight from an office.

“Just drop me at the train station by the mall,” Emily said, leaning forward to talk to Jack over his shoulder as he adjusted her seat and mirrors to fit his taller frame. “I sent you my address, so bring the car back to me there in the morning when you get back.” She sat back again, giving me a side-eyed look.

“Thanks, Emily. We really appreciate it,” Jack said, starting the car up.

“I mean, I don’t mind helping you out, but why is he going with you?” Emily wrinkled her nose. “Zoe told me he’s a vampire. Is that why he stunk when I was a fox?”

“That’s right,” Jack said, backing into the street. “Our noses in our animal forms can smell that vampires are dead, and instinctively we dislike it. Part of why vampires and shapeshifters were at odds for so long.”

Emily’s face scrunched further. “It’s not going to linger in my car, is it?”

“Afraid so.” Jack glanced at Emily in the rearview mirror.

“Hey!” I protested, but Jack kept talking.

“Sorry. But the good news is that you’ll only smell it when you’re in your animal form. Plus, it’ll be good for you to get used to it. As you can see, vampires get a little testy when you imply that they stink.” Jack’s eyes canted over to me. “Everett, not your fault. Just stating facts.”

“Fine.” Emily crossed her arms.

“What is it you do for work, Emily?” I asked, trying to reduce the tension that was growing in the car.

“I saw you on the news.” Emily glared at me.

I slid down in my seat. “I’m innocent,” I mumbled.

“That news report has to do with why I’m taking him to Mount Hood,” Jack said, reaching over with one hand to rub my leg for a moment, before putting it back on the wheel. “But the details are up to him to reveal.”

I shook my head. “Maybe another time,” I mumbled.

Jack took pity on me. “Emily is a real estate agent.”

“That’s why I’m out so late. A lot of people only want to see houses after they get off work, so I’m often working in the evenings.”

Jack turned down the street near the mall and pulled over to the side of the road. “Here you go, Emily. Thanks again for letting us borrow your car.”

Emily opened her door, but lingered inside. “I have a showing at eleven tomorrow.”

“I’ll have it back first thing in the morning, promise,” Jack said.

Emily nodded. “I’ll hold you to that. And Everett?” She looked directly at me for the first time. “Good luck on getting your name cleared.”

“Thanks.”

She got out and walked away, while Jack put the car back into gear and headed for the freeway.

[missesmckinnon]

It's really all my personal headcanon.

I view James as someone who went from a known people pleaser, known for pushing his basic needs aside to help others, to someone who still made other people happy, but learned to take care of himself at the same time. It makes him happy to see other people happy, and it's even better when he's the reason for their joy.

Lily isn't a people pleaser, but she enjoys making others laugh and smile. When she's around her friends, she's one of the first people they go to when they're sad or upset, because they know she'll be there for them to cheer them up. However, she can be absolutely malicious when someone deserves it.

I do agree with you on Sirius. He secretly cares deeply about others and the way they feel. I see Sirius as someone who has a strong sense of empathy and sympathy, but isn't used to dealing with it considering where he grew up. I think he views vulnerability as a weakness, and tries to cover it up by being "tough", but he can't help but crying when he sees a sad first year.

I had a hard time placing Evan in either category. I think that even though he's a Slytherin, and friends with some cutthroat people, he's actually quite kind and is able to take care of and empathize with others easily. I think this side of him is especially noticeable with the other Skittles and James, as Evan has an easier time being himself around his friends, and he enjoys being kind to James because James has always returned the favor.

Dorcas was also pretty difficult. I view her more as someone who's very intimidating when people first meet her (rightfully so), but she enjoys laughing with her friends, and even people she's not that close with. She has a soft spot for those in the years below her, and always takes time out of her day to check on the first years, as she knows very well what it's like to be homesick and nervous.

I can't recall knowing that much about Amelia in canon, but this entire fandom is 99% fanon, and what is canon tends to be changed or ignored. I see Amelia as very soft, and very kind. I believe that she would be very good friends with Peter, though she is less of a troublemaker. Her first priority with friends is making sure they're having a good time, and when she does get into fights with others, it always stops with a few words and she can't bring herself to curse someone out.

Regulus wouldn't care about stares or scowls he gets in the halls, and he doesn't like many people, so that alone places him in the second category.

Mary was interesting. I think she's very intimidating and scary to people she doesn't know, and I think she's very good at holding a grudge. One wrong move and you end up on her hit-list, which isn't a list you want to be on. She knows that people are afraid of her, and it makes her happy knowing that she has that kind of impact.

I sort of agree on Remus. He's definitely very insecure about his place, especially as he gets older and everyone starts maturing, but I think he hates (or dislikes, for a softer word) people before they can decide they hate him. It's easier for him that way, rejecting people before they reject him.

Barty was actually odd to think about. He doesn't care about others opinions one bit, but I think he has a desperate need to be liked. I headcanon that his mother died a few years before Hogwarts, and he was left alone at home to take care of himself because his dad was always at work and didn't care enough to come home. Barty is happy with his group of friends but I think he's very similar to Remus in this sense, deciding to make enemies of people before they get the chance to burn him. It makes him feel warm inside when he makes someone else laugh, since it fuels his need to have people love him.

Marlene is tough and competitive. She's a star Quidditch player and doesn't leave room for error on the team, even though James is captain (Frank before that). She doesn't mind that she's made quite a few enemies, as she has her friends, her parents, and her brothers, and that's all she needs. In fact, she enjoys the competition she gets from people that hate her, on and off the field.

Emmeline is very similar to Marlene, but the difference is she has a harder time making friends. While she is close with the marauders, valkyries, and skittles, I think Edgar and Amelia are her closest friends. Like Marlene, her competitive nature has made her a subject of dislike among many other students in her year, but she doesn't mind, for the same reasons Marlene doesn't. The biggest difference between Emmeline and Marlene, to me, is that Emmeline is a lot more insecure in herself and her place in the world.

It's all headcanons, though. This is just how I see the characters 🥰

James, Lily, Sirius, Evan, Dorcas, and Amelia: I like making other people happy. It’s nice to be the reason someone else is smiling.

Regulus, Mary, Remus, Barty, Marlene, and Emmeline: I take pride in the fact that people don’t like me. I hate you too, bitch.

[mqsi]

You are an introvert female Barca player. One day you forget your art work at Barca training grounds and Gavi picks it up. He looks through the pages and see a drawing of him. He than finds the name and questions around who the person is. When Pedri tells him, he decide to go look for her until it is told she left already. He then gets her address from a female Barca player, goes to her house to which the hosue keeper let’s him in and tells her she’s in her art room area. He sees her painting and dancing to bad bunny and gavi just watches and smiles as he admires all the artwork she has (some have Barca drawings with the males and female team)… you may end it how you like.

Hey love, I changed up the request just a bit, hope you don’t mind. Also @soccerwag actually did the same request, so make sure to check it out as well!

The header for this is my own Gavi drawing that I hung up on the wall (next to Pedri🤭)—————————————————————————-

The team was just finishing up with training, Gavi and Pedri being the last ones to leave the pitch. They were dragging their feet, tired from all the exercises.

“Double check if you brought everything with you, I can’t deive you back if you forget something AGAIN” Pedri said, emphasizing the again as they had to get back yesterday for Gavi’s charger. Gavi looked around the training pitch one more time and was about to leave when he noticed something in the corner of his eye.

“I’ll catch up in a minute” he said, rushing off towards the far end on the bench.

“See, you forgot something again” Pedri yelled exiting the place and waving his hand around.

Gavi reached the object and was confused to find that it’s a notebook of some sort. He picked it up and realized that it was a sketchbook.

“What?” he mumbled to no one in particular. Peeling off the cover he met eyes with himself. He searched for the signature, eyes landing on a messy written date and name that he didn’t quite recognize. Gavi flipped trough the whole sketchbook, which he later realized was a bit disrespectful but he was curious. Especially becasue it contained most of the men’s team players. When he came back to the locker room, Pedri was already ready to go and everyone else left as well.

“The hell took you so long? What is that?” He said, pointing at the sketchbook in his hands.

“Someone’s sketchbook, she must be from the women’s team cause it was on a bench” he said.

“What, really? Let me see”

“No”

“Why?”

“I already flipped trough, it wouldn’t be nice to let you as well” Gavi said, placing the sketchbook in his bag.

“So what are you gonna do with it?”

“Return, does the name ring a bell?” He said, repeating your name to him.

“Yeah, she is from the female team. I met her once tho, she’s kinda shy. Why don’t you text Alexia or someone about her adress, I’ll drop you off now”

Gavi managed to get your adress from Alexia but not without being teased. Pedri and him reached your house.

“I’ll wait here, you sure you only want to return the sketchbook?” Pedri said teasing him as well.

“I don’t even know the girl” he said, exiting the car. When he reached your door, he suddenly got nervous. Maybe this was weird and he should’ve just left it where he found it. Meanwhile, you had your earbuds in, dancing to the music while doing another sketch. The last thing on your mind was that you forgot the sketchbook at practice this morning.

Gavi rung your doorbell and since you had music blasting, you didn’t hear it at first. You went to the kitchen to get a glass of water when you heard something in the backround. You turned towards the door and decided to check. Gavi rang once again and now you were sure someone was at the door. Taking out the earbuds you opened the door. Pablo Gavi standing on your doorstep was quite the sight that you were not ready for.

He smiled at you “Hi, I’m Pablo”

“Hi, yeah I know” you said, smiling akwardly and introducing yourself.

“Uhm, so I found this on the bench at training and wanted to return it to you” he said, handing you the sketchbook. Your heart skipped a beat.

“How’d you know where I live? Also since you know it belongs to me, I guess you went trough it?”

Gavi felt his cheeks flush at the question.

“Yeah I did, I’m sorry but I was curious. I asked your teammate about the adress”

“Thank you” you said, holding the sketchbook close to your chest.

“Also, they’re really good, you did me justice. But Pedri, generous much, he ain’t that hot” he said, making you chukle.

“Well thank you, I’m happy to hear that”

Gavi focused on your face. You were quite cute and seemed nice. He didn’t know what came over him to say this, but he did and now he has to pull it off confidently.

“I can pose for you live sometime, in a cafe or something”.

Your eyes snapped at him, heart thumping against your chest.

“So you want to go out with me?” you replied, also a lot out of character. Guess you were pulling each other to open up.

“Well, do you wanna go out?” Gavi said, smiling and crossing his hands over his chest.

“I would love to”

——————————————————————————

[putellas11]

A/N: Thank you to everyone who requested a part 2 to Be Smart About This (🛏💥) and I’m sorry to took me so long to get around to it, I honestly just wasn’t planning on writing a part 2 but you know me... I aim to please.  Hope you enjoy!

Avoiding Suspicions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

The stage is set for the clash against Chelsea. In the distance, you hear the clamor of thousands. You can’t see the fans yet, but you can certainly feel their anticipation and excitement. Surrounded by your teammates and opponents, you feel at peace with the familiar sounds of players stomping their cleats, jumping up and down to release their nervous energy.

In front of you is Alexia with her shoulders squared back and head held high. With the captain’s armband wrapped around her bicep and the club’s pennant secure in her hand, she carries herself in a similar manner to a commander preparing to lead her troops into battle. She stands tall, setting the example and instilling fear in the enemy.

It’s hard to believe this is the same woman you woke up next to this morning. Her hair a tangled mess, drooling over the pillow with slightly parted lips. Waking up before the alarm was set to go off allowed you a few precious minutes to admire her as she slept. You studied her face, smooth, with no hint of stress. You memorized the flutter of her eyelashes against her cheek and the pattern of her breaths. Most importantly, you recorded a video of her as evidence that she did in fact, snore.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get a proper good night’s rest before such an important game,” you say mid-yawn, stretching your arms out for a little dramatic effect.

Your voice breaks Alexia from her trance and she turns around to face you, a focused frown has now transformed into a smile.

“Well, you better get used to it,” she says, and for a brief moment it seems like she’s forgotten all about the game.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask with feign innocence, acting oblivious to the meaning behind her words.

“You know what it means.”

There’s no time to say anything else, but the look the two of you share speaks volumes.

The referee gives her signal and both teams walk out and onto the pitch to the roar of the crowd.

Game on.

___________

The team returns to Barcelona in great spirits after a 1-3 victory over Chelsea. With the semifinals almost within reach, football should be the only thing on your mind. Instead, all you can think about is Alexia and how incredible it felt to wake up with her in your arms. It was the first time the two of you shared a bed, but you hoped it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

A few days have passed since the Chelsea game, and Alexia has yet to provide you with any clarity on where you two stand. Any frustration that you feel is kept to yourself, however. You of all people know how difficult it is to put an end to a relationship— even if the love once shared no longer exists. If it wasn’t for the affection that reflects in her eyes every time she sees you, you’d be in a state of panic.

The last thing you expected was for Alexia to show up at your door on a random Tuesday night, eyes filled with tears and cheeks stained by the trails they left behind. When she sees you, she doesn’t hesitate to throw her arms around you, finding solace in your embrace.

“I broke up with her,” she murmurs, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck.

You struggle to find the right words and ultimately decide it’s best to not say anything at all. Sometimes it’s just best to provide comfort through actions until the right words eventually do come along.

Now inside the apartment, Alexia opts to sit on the floor with her back against the sofa and her knees tucked into her chest.

You’re on a mission to find two wine glasses and the bottle you have stored away in case of emergencies. This gives you some time to collect your thoughts and accept the situation for what it truly is. Tonight, Alexia might just need you as a friend and you’re prepared to be just that. Everything else will have to wait.

You take a sit next to her on the floor and set the two glasses in the space between. Alexia watches in silence as you pour the wine and accepts the glass with a smile. The tears in her eyes have dried up and you take that as a good sign.

“When we got back from London, I wanted to end it that very same day,” Alexia finally breaks the silence, her finger gently tapping against the glass. “But we somehow got in another fight before I could even go and see her in person,” she lets out a dry chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief, “can you believe that?”

You know better than to answer that question, so you take a sip of the wine instead.

“Anyway, she refused to answer my calls so meeting up in person was impossible and you know breaking up with someone over text is not my thing.”

You nod as she speaks, reaching out to give her shoulder a light squeeze. “I get it, Ale. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“I know, but I think you deserve to know what’s been going on,” she says, taking your hand with hers. “So, she finally decides to answer my texts and agrees to see me. When I get to her place, she’s not mad or upset. I mean, she starts touching me like we haven’t been fighting for a week straight!”

This all comes as a shock considering you’ve made every effort to know as little as possible of Alexia’s relationship— for obvious reasons. Whenever Alexia would talk about her in the locker room, you would just quietly walk away. If she ever tagged along to any of the team dinners or events, you’d stay as far away as possible from her. The little you do know of the relationship is thanks to Aitana who would always make sure to not spill too much.

“Has it always been this hot and cold?”

Alexia gives herself a moment to think, taking the occasional drink as she collects her thoughts. “Not in the beginning or else we would not have lasted this long,” she says with a sigh, “but once she got to see how busy my schedule can really get, things just… changed. All the sudden it turned into, you’re not spending enough time with me, Alexia. Or, even when we’re together all you can think about is football, Alexia. It’s been a constant Alexia this, Alexia that, and there’s only so much I can take.”

You’ve witnessed firsthand how hectic Alexia’s life can be, especially with Barça on the eve of yet another successful season. It’s no secret that she is the heart and face of the club, and while her presence in the spotlight has brought a lot of positive attention to the team, all good things inevitably must come at a cost. She has had to sacrifice so much and yet, not once have you heard her utter a single complaint.

As the night progresses, you learn more and more of Alexia’s relationship with her ex and while you’d never admit to her, or anyone for that matter, deep down you wish you had the mustered up the courage to fight for her sooner. Maybe, just maybe, you could have spared her from months of unhappiness.

“Do you think I can sleep here tonight?” she asks, hazy eyes locked on the empty wine bottle on the floor. “I can take the sofa so you don’t have to listen to me snore.”

You roll your eyes because there’s no way in hell you’re going to let her sleep on the sofa, not when you know what it’s like for her to be the first thing you see in the morning.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” With the wine glasses set to the side, you stand up and reach your hand out to her, “come on.”

With a smile, Alexia takes your hand and lets you lead her to the bedroom.

Nothing happened that Tuesday night, but something did happen on Wednesday morning. It was Alexia who woke up first and therefore, it was her turn to take her precious time admiring you like she’s never been able to do before. Soft touches and trailing kisses taunted you away from your dreams.

When you opened your eyes and saw the look on her face, you just couldn’t resist.

It was inevitable.

________________________

Keeping your relationship with Alexia a secret from the team has proven to be much more difficult than you anticipated. To not draw any suspicions to the relationship, you’ve made it a point to arrive for training 15 minutes or so after Alexia. Sometimes you arrive a little later, but that’s only when a certain someone goes a little crazy the night before and you have to masterfully conceal the hickeys that decorate your neck.

Despite your best efforts, it only took a week for a suspicious Patri to pull you aside to ask if there was anything going on between you and Alexia. Apparently, Alexia held on to your hand for a little too long during a partner drill and that was enough evidence to warrant an interrogation.

A couple weeks later Mariona cornered you before practice wanting to know the reason behind your new ‘glow’, as she so put it, and if it had anything to do with Alexia replacing her as your roommate. Far from being the best liar in the world, you were able to come up with a somewhat believable excuse and managed to temporarily ease suspicions. Still, their eyes always seemed to follow you whenever Alexia would get a little too close.

Fully aware of all the eyes on you and Alexia, drastic measures needed be taken.

Fortunately, you know of a room at the training ground that is pretty much abandoned. You know it be abandoned because in your time with the club, you have not seen a single soul step in or out. It’s cluttered from floor to ceiling with broken machinery, torn up cleats, and the memories of the past generations of players.

A room that is never occupied now serves as the perfect spot for you to sneak away with Alexia when the desire to be touched by her gets too strong to ignore. Still in the very early stages of the relationship, it’s impossible to go too long without a kiss or a touch, so the two of you have become frequent visitors.

Inside the room, all that can be heard is the muffled sounds of soft moans and wet, needy lips meeting. The occasion hiss of air drawn from desperate lungs as fingernails dig into skin. Alexia has you pinned down against the wall with her body, her hands exploring every inch of exposed skin with an unquenchable greed. Her hand is just beginning to slip under your shirt when you stop her.

“What’s the matter?” she asks, breathlessly, a mix of confusing and lust in her eyes.

“I know that look,” your thumb running across her bottom lip, “we’re gonna need a whole lot more privacy for all the things you want to do to me right now.”

“Maybe you’re right…” her hands running across your back, leaning in to breathe in your scent, “you do tend to get a little loud,” she teases, nibbling at your earlobe.

A warmth creeps up your neck and into your cheeks, “so you’re saying you  prefer me to be quiet?”

Alexia pulls back, her gaze darkened, “definitely not.”  

When she tangles her hands in your hair and pulls your face back to hers, you have no choice but to accept that there will never be such thing as being quiet with Alexia. It’s impossible to be quiet when you’re finally experiencing what you’ve thought about— craved, for so long. Her touch on your skin, her tongue in your mouth have your senses on overload so no, being quiet is out of the question.

They say forbidden fruit is the sweetest, but now that Alexia is all yours, you can’t imagine her tasting any sweeter.

You’re so lost in her touch that you fail to hear the footsteps approaching. When the door opens with a creaking sound, you both freeze. Your eyes are shut tight, scared to face reality and whoever it is that has just discovered the secret you’ve worked so hard to keep.

Surprisingly, Alexia lets out a soft chuckle, “oops.”

Unlike Alexia, you’re still utterly mortified so you’re only capable of opening one eye to make out the figure standing by the door.

Aitana.

The younger midfielder looks back and forth between the two of you, her hands on her hips. Out of everyone on the team who could have possibly walked in on you and Alexia, of course it has to be Aitana. The one person who has always encouraged you to take it slow with Alexia, to be smart and most importantly, respect Alexia’s girlfriend— now ex.

Her expression is blank, giving you no clues as to how she feels about the scene she just stumbled into. You stand frozen in your spot; your only comfort comes from Alexia caressing the palm of your hand.

“Are you two together?” Aitana finally asks, still no hint of emotion on her face.

You share a look with Alexia and reach an unspoken agreement. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.

“Yes.”

Aitana nods twice, and then much to your surprise, the corners of her lips begin to curl up into a big smile. “I knew it!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in air in excitement. With a squeal, she runs up to you and Alexia and pulls you both in for a hug. “It’s about damn time!”

You let out of sigh of relief at Aitana’s reaction, relieved that all your concerns have turned out to be figments of your imagination. Despite always advising you to be cautious, Aitana has always been supportive of your feelings for Alexia. So in the end, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that she’s happy to see her two closest friends together after so much back and forth. That, or she’s happy because she won’t have to listen to you anymore go on and on about how much it hurts to not be with Alexia.

“I’m really happy for you two,” she says, her expression now full of joy and affection, “I want to know everything, but first, you have to help me find an old rebounder that’s hidden somewhere in this mess.”

With Aitana focused on rummaging through the cluttered room, Alexia lifts your hand to place a soft kiss on your knuckles, “looks like we don’t have to keep this a secret anymore.”

You give her a hand a little squeeze, “no, not anymore, cariño.”

With one last look, together you join Aitana on the search for the missing piece of equipment.

[jostystyles]

cooler | tj

a/n: this is my entry for @antoineroussel 's winter fic exchange! demi, thanks for putting this together as always!! this fic was written for @butgilinsky <3 I hope you enjoy it dear!! special thanks to @comphy-and-cozy for letting me brain rot about my tyson jost = nick miller agenda, and @suitandtys for the title. divider graphics are by @firefly-graphics . this fic is inspired by nick and jess's first kiss in new girl. i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, alcohol, use of she/her pronouns. mat barzal is an instigator.

word count: 2.8k

The All-Star Weekend, for a certain group of guys, meant the ability to show off their skills for the game they love, and praise for being considered the best of the best. But for the rest of them, it meant something else. 

Freedom & Relaxation. 

Of course, the way the free time was being spent varied from player to player. Some guys returned home to spend time with their kids and families, some took weekend trips, and some just stayed put. 

But for Tyson Jost, Mat Barzal, and Dante Fabbro, it meant a reunion. Typically, they only saw each other during the season when they played each other respectfully, and in the summer when they trained together amongst other things. This break, though, they’d be traveling to Cancun for a weekend getaway with some of their friends from back home. Though they all hailed from different hometowns, they had a pretty tight knit group that tried to see each other as much as possible. So when the group chat collectively agreed everyone would be free for a trip, it was decided. This was going to be a trip to remember. 

“Wait, why the fuck do I need my passport?” Mat exclaimed inquisitively, his voice echoing through the speakers of the FaceTime call. 

Abruptly pausing her packing, (Y/N) turned to grab her phone off the bed. “What? Mat, where the hell do you think Cancun is?” 

“Uh. Florida.” He said, like she had asked him the stupidest question in the world.

“Jesus fuck, Mat, it’s in Mexico. Are you kidding me? Your plane ticket literally says you’re flying into Mexico.” 

As if his mind had just been completely blown, which it had in a way, Mat’s expression turned to one of total shock. “Wow. That makes a lot of sense, actually.” 

(Y/N) shook her head with a sigh, wondering how he has managed to make it this far. Out of all her close friends, Mat was the one she’d known the longest. The two of them had grown up on the same street, their families becoming friends over the years. Despite the jokes from everyone, they’d actually defied the odds to show that boys and girls can be just friends as they’d formed such a tight bond throughout their lives and consider each other like siblings. 

Naturally, they had the same friends. Enter Dante, who came into the picture when he and Mat started playing hockey together. Over the years, the three of them grew closer and other friends came and went, but as they got older, a group solidified. As they became teenagers, Tyson became a part of that group. (Y/N) still remembers the day she first met him. 

Her family was the last to arrive at the Fabbro’s lake house, as usual. This had been a tradition for the past few years, and she usually anticipated it each time. But for some reason she was nervous. She was 14 now, and things were changing. She was no longer the nerdy little girl that hung out with the hockey boys, physically at least. The thought of being in a bathing suit around a bunch of rowdy boys made her feel awkward and uncomfortable. She reminded herself it was just Mat and Dante, her two idiot best friends who would make fun of her for the color of the swimsuit, not how she looked in it. Shaking it off, she grabbed her suitcase and wandered through the cabin to the room she shared with Dante’s sisters. Tossing the bag on the bed, she quickly grabbed her book to head down to the water. (Y/N) closed the door behind her and turned around to walk away, only to take a few steps and collide with something bare and warm. She fell to the ground, letting out an “Oof.” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going are you ok?” A voice rambled on. 

“Yeah, no problem ‘m good, I-” (Y/N) replied, her voice faltering as she looked up. Her eyes were met with the softest brown ones, flashing at her with a look of concern. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. 

“Here, let me help you up. I’m Tyson, um, Tyson Jost. Mat and Dante’s friend from hockey.” The boy said, reaching down to help her up. 

“I’m (Y/N). Also Mat and Dante’s friend, but um. Not from hockey.” She said, eliciting a laugh from Tyson. 

He stuck his hand out before saying, “Well, here’s to hoping we become each other’s friend too.” 

Shaking his hand, (Y/N) shook her head with a shy smile. A part of her knew her life would never be the same now that he was in it. 

“...when Tyson gets in?” 

The sound of Mat’s voice brought her back to reality. “Hm?” She replied. Rolling his eyes, Mat spoke with a teasing tone. 

“I knew that saying his name would get your attention. Do you know when Tyson gets in?” 

“You’re a dick. He gets in around the same time as you so I’d try and get to the house together. Gabe, Alicia, Jay and I will already be there.” 

“Fer sure. You think this’ll be the trip you finally admit you’re in love with each other?”

(Y/N) shot him a glare. “I will hang up on you right now Mathew. Tyson is not in love with me.” 

“You didn’t deny you’re in love with him though.” 

Caught off guard, she stumbled over her words. Mat let out a laugh, saying, “(Y/N/N) you realize I know you better than anyone right? You aren’t fooling anyone. Except Tys. He’s definitely oblivious.” 

“I will literally skin you alive and slice your achilles tendon if you say anything to him on this trip.” 

“Love you too.” 

If there was anything Tyson needed right now, it was a gigantic margarita on the beach. The past year of his life had been a bit insane, and he was in desperate need of a vacation. He’d missed his friends, too. They didn’t get to see each other that often now that they were older, and cherished times like this. His flight had landed from Buffalo a few minutes ago, and he was waiting at the baggage claim to grab his luggage. Scrolling through instagram to pass time, he felt a hand clap on his shoulder and whipped his head around. 

“Oh hell yeah. Missed you brother, what’s up!” He said, turning to embrace Mat in a hug.

“Missed you too bud. You ready for the best weekend of your life? C’mon. Car’s here.” 

 

“Jesus Christ, Leesh. I can’t believe your boss let you have his fucking house for the weekend. This place is insane.” (Y/N) exclaimed, taking in the sights that laid before her. Alicia’s boss had graciously let her utilize his beach mansion for the weekend as a thanks for her hard work at her company. 

“Eh, perks of being fucking good at what I do.” Alicia said, taking a swig of moscato straight from the bottle. “Who wants a cocktail?” 

“I sure do. Tequila sunrise, light on the sunrise, heavy on the tequila.” A voice cried out, followed by a huff of laughter. 

Turning around, (Y/N)’s confusion turned into a smile. “Barzy, you’re not even through the door and you’re already asking for a drink? Why am I surprised?” 

“You shouldn’t be. I love day drinking.” Mat stated, hugging her. “Watch out. Your boyfriend's right behind me.” He whispered in her ear, earning him a knee to his nether regions. 

Pushing him away, (Y/N) turned towards the guy she’d been waiting far too long to see. 

Tyson stood there, a small smile on his face. After the hell he’d been through the past 10 months, he still managed to smile. That was one of her favorite things about him. His brown eyes looked soft, and duller than usual, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the flight. 

“C’mere you big oaf. I missed you, Tys.” 

He hugged her for a bit longer than he intended. There was just something comforting about being in his best friend's arms again. 

“Ok, if you two love birds are going to keep hugging, we’re going to get this party started. Drinking games start now.” Dante said, shoving two solo cups full of something their way. 

Grabbing the cups, Tyson passed one to (Y/N). “Good to see you too, Big D. Lead the way.” 

“I missed you, you know.” Tyson said, swinging his and (Y/N)’s entwined hands back and forth. 

“I missed you too. Least we’re in the same state now though, right?” 

“6 hours is still too far.” 

(Y/N) chuckled. “Well, at least I’m a train ride away instead of a plane.” 

As they approached the patio, the party was already in full swing. Music was blasting, Mat was already trying to get Jay down from her place on top of the table, and Gabe and Alicia were mixing drinks like nobody's business. 

Tyson shook his head. “Somebodies gonna fucking die here.” 

“Either that, or we’re spending a night in a Mexican jail.” (Y/N) replied. The night was just about to begin. 

To say everyone was fucked up would be putting it lightly. The drinks had been flowing consistently all evening, and it was approaching midnight. The gang had made their way inside for a game of who knows what. At this point, it was just a bunch of drunk people shouting things. Mat and Jay were sharing a bottle of wine, discussing God knows what under the dining room table. Gabe was shirtless, but wearing his swimsuit and dress socks. Tyson had somehow acquired a trench coat he found in one of the bedroom closets, and (Y/N) sported her bikini top and a bright pink tutu from god knows where. 

“Guys, I think we need to call it a night. We’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow and it’s only the first day.” 

“NO!” Alicia cried. “Don’t be a party pooper. You were out the latest in college.”

“We aren't in college anymore. I’m tired, Leesh.” (Y/N) wailed, resting her head dramatically on Tyson’s shoulder. 

“Boring. Who wants to play another game?” Alicia shouted, gaining the attention of the whole house. 

“How about good old fashioned, 7 minutes in heaven?” Jay chimed in, waggling her eyebrows mischievously. 

“OOOh, nice one Jay. I’m in. Who votes Josty and (Y/N)?” 

The room erupted in cheers, aside from (Y/N) and Tyson. 

“Hold on, don’t we get a say in this?” Tyson retorted. 

“Nope. Behind the iron curtain you go!” Alicia demanded, ushering them to the kitchen, where she then rolled the door that separated the two spaces shut. 

A chant of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” began amongst the other friends, as Tyson protested. 

“Open the door! This isn’t funny guys.” 

The chants continued, and (Y/N) sucked in a sharp breath at Tyson’s seeming wish to be left out. Would it really be that bad to him if they kissed? 

After a moment, (Y/N) spoke up. “Ok, we kissed! Sent you a picture!” 

From the other side of the door, Dante looked at the picture, which was of (Y/N) and Tyson with their lips pursed, angled at each others cheeks. “That is not a kiss! C’mon, Inspector Gadget, inspect those tonsils!” 

Barzy chimed in, saying, “Yeah! C’mon, Josty. Just give (Y/N) a tender, sensual, kiss, and we’ll let you right out.” 

“Mat, shut up!” (Y/N) cried, knowing full well he was having a field day with this. 

Tyson was desperately trying to pry the door open, but was unsuccessful. His heart was beating out of his chest. This was not how he wanted this to go. 

Leaning against the counter, (Y/N) pondered, “What’s the big deal? Let’s just suck it up and french a little.” That was the tequila talking. 

Tyson shot his head up at her. “Ok, fine. But don't say ‘suck it up and french a little’.” 

“Ok, fine, let’s do this.” 

They walked towards each other, stopping when they were in close proximity. (Y/N) could feel her heart beating a mile a minute. Tyson’s hands reached out to settle on her forearms. She could see the sparkle in his brown eyes that wasn’t there before. Later, she’d come to know, that spark only existed for her. 

“Let’s just do it.” Tyson said, his voice quivering slightly. 

“Let’s do it.” (Y/N) echoed. “Do it.” 

“Fine.” 

“I’m doing it.” 

“Fine, then do it.” 

“Are you a tounger?”

“Tyson, what the hell.” 

“Well, I don’t wanna put my tongue in your mouth if you don’t like it!” 

(Y/N) sighed, laughing at her best friend. “Just kiss me!” 

Tyson was freaking out. “OK, alright, great. That’s what I’m gonna do.” He grabbed her face, his fingers gracing her soft (Y/H/C) ever so lightly. “Ready?” 

“Yeah.” (Y/N) replied, quietly. 

Tyson closed his eyes, leaning in. (Y/N) pulled her head away, saying, “I’m sorry, you can’t do that!” 

“What did I do?” Tyson asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Your face!” 

“My face?” 

“You can’t do that with your face.” 

Tyson burst into laughter, (Y/N) soon following him. They stopped, glancing at each other for a brief moment. Tyson thought she was the prettiest girl in the world. He always had, ever since they met 10 years ago. Just as he was about to speak up, a banging ensued on the wall. 

“Yo, I don’t hear any talking, so ya’ll better be smooching!” Dante screeched. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re getting to it.” Tyson said, not breaking eye contact with (Y/N). 

The chants of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” picked back up again. 

“Ok Tyson, come on. Just kiss me.” (Y/N) said, frustrated. 

“No, I’m not gonna kiss you.” 

“Kiss me!” 

“(Y/N), stop!” Tyson said harshly. 

“God, Jost, just kiss me already!” 

“No, not like this!” he almost shouted. 

(Y/N)’s face turned to one of confusion. “What? What does that mean?” 

Tyson took a step back, his face turning red. “No I didn’t mean… Nothing, I just. I didn’t mean it like that. I just, we can’t. That’s not, you know, like,” He was full on word vomiting, “Do you know like, it’s very, like, you don’t, that’s not what it…” 

(Y/N) tilted her head, a small smile on her face. Before she could say anything, the door swung open, revealing Jay, with an insane look on her face. 

“Ok, times up! Mat and I’s turn.” 

Tyson was gone faster than (Y/N) could see, leaving her with nothing but a sobered up head full of confusion, and a heavy heart. 

Everyone had since retreated to their rooms for the night, except for Jay and Mat who were probably still making out in the kitchen like they usually do when they’re drunk. Her door slightly ajar, (Y/N) saw a quick shadow while she was brushing her hair. 

“Hey!” she cried out. Tyson stopped in his own doorway, turning around to see (Y/N) in hers. She stood there in her silk nightgown, bare faced, with the look of concern painted across her face that she often gave him. 

“You ok, Tys?” She asked softly, stepping out into the hallway just a bit. 

“Yeah, Im good. Just needed to sober up a bit, so I went and sat down by the beach.” 

“Oh. Ok. Listen, about earlier. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was just messing around, feeding off our idiot friends.” (Y/N) apologized. 

“S’ Ok, (Y/N/N). It was just a game. I still think you’re cool.” 

“I think you’re cooler. Night, Tyson.” She replied with a smile. 

“G’night, (Y/N).” 

Just as she turned to go inside her room, something shifted within Tyson. Like he wasn’t even thinking, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her flush to him. Before either of them could speak, he pressed his lips onto hers, encapsulating them into a passionate kiss. His arms moved to her lower back, hugging her so forcefully as if it were to be the last time. (Y/N)’s arms were wrapped around his neck, tugging at the tufts of curls that lay at the back of his head. Their lips moved in harmony, Tyson kissing her again and again each time with more push than the last. They finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together and breathing heavily. 

Tyson kissed her once more, than again, and again. He finally looked at her, his finger under her chin forcing her to look at him. 

She was staring at him, her big beautiful (Y/E/C) that he loved so dearly, begging him to say something. 

“I meant something like that.” Tyson told her, before dropping his hands from her figure and retreating into his room, and shutting the door.  

(Y/N) stood there, in complete and utter shock. She brought her hand up to touch her lips, and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

Tyson Jost was going to be the death of her, and she’d been hoping to see the Grim Reaper for quite a while.

tags: @comphyjost @tinyhockey @2manytabsopen @laurenairay @fallinallincurls @ilyasorokinn @lt-natrace